First born of my first born

 Baby being held in the lap of one of their mothers, with the other mom's hand resting on top.
Our daughter had a baby last month. Declan asked what the "new shape" was that I mention in the last line of the poem below. I replied that I didn't know, but what I'm sure of is that it is lumpy and expanding with emotion in search of words.

Watching Newness: a note to Theodora

In the days following the day

you emerged from warm safety

into a shocking world

first born of my first born

I got to watch you

eyes flexing toward focus

lips exploring the idea of hunger and satiation

soul grappling with sensations of separation and self

all of it new for you

and for her too, your mother.


I watched her as she watched you

examining her face

as she examined yours

as I’d examined hers

in the days following the day

she emerged, like you

miraculously manifest.

I watched as she watched

time unfolding

the wonder of the moment

pressing my heart

into a new shape.


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