another untitled motherhood poem
There are so many fits to it.
Her ribs, for instance,
are exactly my curved fingers. Her fingers
are exactly rings. And the rise of her breath belly
exactly fills my hand curved loosely --
my hand, that I did not know was empty.
2 Comments
Your work just gets stronger, Erin.
I am so grateful for it.
It’s been a long time but I recall the wonder of seeing the beauty and perfection of God’s creation in the tiny parts of our babies. Now, the wonder is in their character as they grow into young people who love and work in our world, imaging Christ. God bless you Erin, James and your little bundle of wonder.