Last night I sensed a taking root
under the bonecage of my heart,
a stirring, shifting; something not
quite of a breath or a heartbeat's weight.
It was the inkling of a soul.
Now I shall have no peace at all
till he's caught and fastened, nested in
the cradle of my pelvic bone.
Then, in the coracle of my womb,
I'll carry him gently, every inch home
though the hour is late
in the lengthening light
to the crook of my arm, the bay's curved shore,
water-lapped, twilight, secure.
Someone very dear to me is expecting a baby at the end of January and I couldn't be more excited (no-it's not me or Gem!). I've posted this poem for her. She knows who she is. Congratulations my love.