Little
hummingbird darts and flickers
in
and out with your fierce heart.
Hope
turns to promise. We watch
your
eager body twitch to dance, lips to speak.
Little
fish – you expand in your dark pool,
filling
with light. Weave your bright spool of thread.
Determined
heart beating your happy life.
A
quiet bubble; a place to think on your destiny.
This
fear in me dissolves
with
each small shift in my belly; is it you? Or breakfast?
Squirmy
baby, like your brother.
Will
either of you sit still for pictures?
Last
night I dreamed of your sister, the one
who
went back to the stars. She was happy you did come.
Butterfly
wings, your curious limbs
like
tiny chisels, softly burrowing into my insides.
After
all the pokes, the intrusions,
we
learn what we knew – your perfect being.
Little
water bug, tiny warrior, you shield your precious heart:
battle
angry red blood cells with a fork and knife in their hands. 10
I
collapse on the couch, after a desk-sitting day,
your
brother’s evening protests. You fuss at the outside chaos.
You
ride your tricycle, deep in my belly
tiny
feet peddle towards the outside.
Soft
swirls of morning, you rise with the sun;
swift
kicks of evening, you trace the patterns of the moon.
Small
hand on your head, hiding
the
secret thought of being unborn.
Your
brother marks you with his purple stamp,
do
you know the love in his dimpled fist?
As
you grow, I bend; resist gravity with hands on hips.
I
intend to hold this ground.
After
poking the hive, the bees lick their honey wounds;
sturdy
their small legs back in the work of being.
Third
time lucky: the last round of intrusion,
you
grow into a fusion of medicine, new blood and love.
You
pass each test, each doubt, and smile in your safe place.
Each
mile behind you; bright ribbons ahead.
Our
little fighter, brought from a starry night;
this
journey is further than your expected arrival. 20
The
heat makes me slow while you sleep inside,
a
curled, twitchy life: I wonder at your
dreams.
A
full moon in my belly eclipses every part.
My
days and memory dissolve in gravity.
I
wake in intervals before sunrise, your demands
already
lift me from sleep – the quiet, dark places.
This
midnight practice, the robbing of night:
a
preparation. The ration of lucid and surreal thought in motion.
The
weight of caring for two: a sweet anvil
in my heart.
Your
due date approaches, veiled in mystery, love and apprehension.
I
want to coax you into the world, to have you
travel
through me: a smooth current from dark
belly to warm breast.
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