He’s gotten a child on her—
She’s been earth to his seed.
Pleased with the idea of it,
He hesitated at its quickening,
Doubted this not-undoable deed.
With nowhere to go but forward,
She’s grown this small creation
Limb by determined limb,
Cell by quivering cell,
Thought by whisper of thought,
Until it found its own life,
Breathed in hot summer air.
Glad to be delivered of her pregnant burden,
Relieved it birthed whole and sound,
Hopeful, she’s held it, damp and mewling,
Up to his trepidations.
He’s taken it to himself with delicate caution,
Surprising at his own attraction.
And with this little thing
Gathered close in his arms,
He’s begun his fathering.
She’s seen him drift a short way off from her,
Absorbed and wondering,
And heard him murmur into his shoulder—
“I will call you Rose.
Everyone will love you,
And you will grow beautiful and strong.”
Would it surprise you to learn it's about something else entirely?
Wow! OK, Kath, you made me cry outright this time. Beautiful and mystical is right fatherhood. I'm so blessed to have a man who takes the yoke of that burden with joy. I know others who aren't so lucky. You're amazing. Dragonslayer read it (he didn't want to) and had to choke back his own emotion. Amazing that you can do that -- with poetry. XO
ReplyDeleteYou are blessed—He'll even read poetry when you ask him to! I'm glad you both found some virtue in this, and especially delighted to think I *may* have captured a little of what it is to become a father.
DeleteOh, I think you did capture a bit of what it is to become a father. Yes, I am blessed beyond belief to have such a partner, companion, and best friend as my spouse.
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