You, startled in your fishbowl crib,*
washed down and lain between cool sheets
after the sweat and blood of your arrival
watch each other.
(- we were the only ones last night
committing miracles -)
we find ourselves fixed in conspiratorial surprise,
gazing, as if,
for all that we shared
nine months swelling expectation
this was somehow not what we expected.
Most of all,
we never thought
the world would now be
quite so different.
transformed from isolated independence
find I am become the wellspring of the future,
tied through time and over oceans to the whole of life.
opening a space, and love and grief, where there were none,
forcing your way into the fabric of existence
have enlarged the universe
with your small, growing self,
Your dreams did not encompass change
and mine were limited to tiny hands and nappies
yet between us
we have changed the world.
*In case you aren’t familiar with maternity wards , the cribs are made of transparent plastic – easy to see the baby, and easy to clean I suppose. But they really look like fishbowls!