on the day you were born you brought me so much joy
—such a cherubic little boy!
what a glory, and the night was barely worn, not-yet-mid
We’d an hour to spare in our watery nid
as the pause passed timelessly
The strange things of the afterbirth
all seeming holy in the glowing waning eve
There the midwife rolling up her sleeves
Did she catch you, or did I? Or was it Papa,
with betwinkled eye?
The memory fades now and hardly matters
I remember you floated up
through that cool pool, and all the effort
which’d seemed hard and cruel
was suddenly gone.
Beauty that you cried so loud and so robustly
—the second midwife arrived a moment late and shouted gladly:
It sounds as though that babe’s been born!
With such joy those words she’d said
they’d flooded the neurons in my head
as I clasped you tenderly to me.
I could not believe it you were finally here
You’d arrived into the world with a nuchal hand
that tiny dimpled starfish against your temple
no wonder the crowning had been so painful,
the midwives said.
My gods but what glory you were!
and still are, a shining star
now look how far
and you’re becoming a young man
I can hardly believe it —
but yes I can!
Look how you stack the firewood
wash dishes and cook
and help so much, do so much good
I’m as proud as any mother could be,
when I think of all you mean to me.
I’m so grateful to you.
The memory of your chipmunk cheeks still
fill me with glee. Though they’ve grown so sleek!
Don’t mind me, if I pinch them once or twice
this week. I’m not sure if I’m just
dreaming! The time has folded in
you’re now such a tall lad seeming,
great at math (and mischievous beaming).
Happy birthday, son; and please remember
if it wasn’t for you,
I’d never cherish so much
this angelically tough
month of December.
The wonder of your becoming is
for me its
Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Auvergne, France. Thank you for reading. ❤︎