She Begins

The father paced,
anxious family waited.
Hastily closed curtain door
unable to mask the screams,
unholy, unhealthy,
as they appear
but not to be confused
for a cry laced with final breath.
For this is the travail.
A momentary silence,
all lean in,
bended knee, straining ear
toward that bed.
The plot of new life,
or comfortable coffin
only time would tell,
enemy or friend.
Another cry,
visceral humanity
gritty in mortality.
Curtains thrown open
and child presented,
living but feminine,
joy tinged with sadness
over masculine dreams.
But watch her,
watch her grow
for She is far more.
On her the world pivots.
From her all life flows.

(Written: 8.IX.17)


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