Water-birth

 

Your crown burns like fire as you pass

From womb to warm water

Without a gasp

Submerged, head first

Eyes hidden,

Your fine hair sways like sea-grass

And the soft helix of your ear is born

Naked on my thigh.

 

All is still

And time is measured in a breathless pause

Generations seem to pass

Waiting for your shoulders to rotate,

Until

With pouting grimace

Your profile glides to view.

You are familiar, I know you.

 

A wave of agonising joy and you surge forth

Ejected and expelled

At once alone

Separate

Launched into life, at last

I lift you slowly and

Your head emerges

From the balmy water.

 

You take a breath, your first,

And murmur sweetly,

I breathe you in

Gaze into the dark universe of your eyes

And hold you to my breast.