Finding the Sense in Sensory

She struggles to grasp it in her head
I struggle to hear her through tears she’s shed
A shriek or a scream not understood
Will she say the words? I wish she would.

Around and around in circles she twirls
A vortex brimming inside my little girl
She wants to hide, she wants to run,
She wants to play, but of touch she’ll have none.

The blanket is wrong, the light is too strong.
The sleeve is not right, the jacket’s too tight.
The button’s too small, the dress won’t fit her doll.
The buckle hurts, it’s the wrong color shirt.

She holds it all in at school and in play.
A charming girl, sweet, compliant all day.
She wants Daddy, she wants Mommy.
Once home, comes forth the emotional tsunami.

Strategies, methods, behaviors and training,
On top of us all, this torrent is raining.
We breathe, count to three, or ten, sometimes more.
She curls up fetal, there on the floor.

What to say, what to do, how to offer solution,
to clear away the neurological pollution?
How will we know when our words reach her?
What triggered this meltdown, and how can we teach her?

Every day I wake up feeling tense and wary
of the burden within her and what she must carry.
It pains me to see her so wrought and so coiled
And I hope every moment her demons I’ll foil.

And when those moments arise with her smile
I let go my breath and know for the while,
I can watch her at play, at rest and at sleep
‘til the storm returns and over us sweeps.