Having a baby makes me feel like writing poetry. If I were a poet, I'd wish to write a poem like this. ~ Nicole
Magnificat
These are the delights of being aligned with God.
In your newborn's slow. helpless dance,
you see what you sensed all those months:
the reality of pregnancy's metaphor:
darkness tumbles into fact.
The child's small parts are delectable.
In only one other interaction
Does the mouth supercede the fingers so,
and the nose ferrets out the richest gulleys:
the crook of the neck, around the ears,
the emanation of a pure new body
("baby's breath" flowers are the symbol of a scent, synesthesia spangled in a small white galaxy).
to observe is to embrace, to enumerate is to exult,
to gaze is to be astounded into your proper place:
through you but not of you has this being bloomed,
you have no thought more elegant
than the fine bright point of his eye.
You are humbled, ripped, transfigured; pleased to be water,
succor for this tree.
Maria Berardi
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