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11:47 pm

Posted on Sep 2, 2014 by in Faith, Family | 1 comment

IMG_8021You cried at 11:47 pm

UFO alien lights across my bedroom—

Silent baby monitor warning (volume off, like always).

Human creature that I am,

I remained tucked

For several minutes.

 

Green flickers continue.

I slipped in shadow and in secret

Across thresholds.

Mothers and angels—

Invisible love agents.

 

Stand outside your door

Listening. Breath and movement—

Restless.

Then it gets me, hits me hard:

No one will ever need me like this again.

You are the last.

Being needed—the most powerful drug.

 

I go in and grope in darkness.

You grope too, we catch hands together.

When I swing you up, your knees are bent

And ready to mold around my waist.

Waist that still carries 10 extra lbs

from your gestation.

Very small price to pay.

I would gladly pay more.

 

You fit in my arms, mold to my chest,

And I press your head to my shoulder,

My back straight as an arrow.

And we sway to the ancient midnight dance,

The one of mothers from ages past.

No one teaches us; it comes with the child.

Umbilical rhythm;

maybe it passes through

the womb.

1 Comment

  1. Love your inspired poem! My youngest of four “babies” is 26. So wish she needed me like that again!

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