The beginning:
breath to lungs—the first romance; you “have” him.
Your body,
an exhaling cocoon from which
she alone
emerges—not as a fling, or some temporary
thing
but an ever-after
kind of
love.
And just because at first she may be small
Don’t be fooled; she’s not
your doll to flaunt
and dress, play games with before
delicately placing her back
on the shelf.
A baby
is cleaning up sick
and ick
at 4 a.m./
cuddling until
the Boogie Man goes to sleep/ he’s
pick-
ups and drop-
-offs
and a lifetime of asking you “why?”
...so be sure you know the answer,
Why. Because
a baby cannot be kept
small
like a photograph
that you stow away
in your pocket, only to pull out at those times when you want to say
“yep, that’s my baby,”—can’t be stretched big
enough to fill
with dreams you couldn’t hold
in your own
hands.
He does not exist to make you proud,
but to learn
all the ways
to tell you
“no.” and to grow
into his own mind, her own heart
you’re her start,
but, remember, you’re just
the beginning.
This is a beautiful poem!
ReplyDeleteI felt a resonance to the love expressed in the beginning. A change like birthing a baby is not just about the life you physically create, but also the rebirth that happens when decisions are followed through and the love that grows through each morphism.
I especially love the "so be sure you know the answer", because baby won't stay baby for long. That and the rest of that stanza stand out to me, miss poet.