this week your heartbeat has quickened
your movements have slowed
you’re readying to be born.
i sat with your mother
as her body began to stretch and groan around her
doing what it needs to do to give birth.
and while it did we watched the news
and the tragedies of this week
made all the more real
and your determination to be born.
we were silent in the face of the horror
that this is the world into which you will come.
no cliches make sense of this week
no promises of the life that comes only through labour pains
no parallels that speak of how this birth will seem like death to you
but how it’s the only path to all that’s rich and wonderful,
waiting for you on the unimaginable other side.
they seem an insult, somehow.
because my deepest fear
is that to be born into new life,
the world needs that intuitive
longing for life
that you have now
and i do no know
how we will find that again.
so my only faithfulness today
is not to promises or hope
of a better day to come.
it’s just to wait
to carry you in to this world
and to hold you with love.