This time,
Her head was cracked backwards
She had curly hair
Her mouth ripped side to side
In joyous shrieks,
She was crackling her S.O.S.
And again,
A sense of happiness and relief
For her.
She is in no doubt, agony.
But I am happy for her.
Because, I think…
I no longer associate agony as a bad thing.
Maybe I know this is what she needs
That this is what we all need
To move on to the next level.
She knows this too,
She knows she is being saved
She knows she is about to enter
I swear it is birth itself personified
You just don’t see the blood
You just don’t see the Mother pushing,
Her teeth of ivory, hard-gritting
With tears of joy and ever-lasting love exuding from and through her being.
You just don’t see the Father awaiting,
With grateful arms carefully open,
to catch, to hold,
Eyes glistening with awe and fear at the unencompassable beauty that is about to enter the world.
It is a birth,
It is anxious
It is full of possibilities,
But not uncertain,
Rather, it is so certain.
So certainly happening,
She is coming
She is coming
She is coming.
More than she knows,
More than she’d ever be able to fully grasp in the moment.
I await.
Desperately
For her coming.
Patiently.
I await.
Actively.
Unhurriedly.
I await.
Faithfully.
I await.
THE COOKIE THAT WRIT 