Held beneath my heart,
one part mother
one part father
one part something
tiny gift of life,
moving in the deep sea
of my body.

Men miss this,red_heart_in_hands_212333
shudder, in fact
at the very idea, when
in reality, I found it all
so spiritual-blended-perfectly-
with-physical that it was
the most zazen of

Yes, discomfort, but
for a cause, for the little
life, daily growing, moving,
living. I thought of him
as my little neighbor,
while simultaneously
loving him unseen, and
wondering who he would become.

And when finally he made
his appearance, wrinkled,
wet, woeful and wise,
there are no words for
the joy.


Written for the November PAD Challenge at Poetic Asides.


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