A child is born. And a new mother too.
Last night I watched a mamma find her way.
"I love you," I said to her. And I did.
I loved her eyes, shining in the
candlelight. Her mouth, open, teaching
me a new language. I loved her body,
every part of it. I witnessed her
struggle, it was all hers.
On the other end of the phone connection
was a new father, heard through the
noise of the Midway of a carnival, working and crying, loving and listening.
Laundry hummed in the dark of the basement.
Jars of homemade teas glistened and the
sweet smell of rosemary rose from the pool in the middle of the room.
And when her baby came, I looked around me
and knew that everything in this home was love.
Mother Mary watched from an altar in the corner, eyes watchful and trusting. Sheets and other cloths hung in the windows,
casting a different kind of light.
A child is born.
To be born into love is to be born into
light, into hope. And tonight I pray for
all mammas, all women
That we may find our way to the light that strengthens
and nourishes
Through all the pain and hopelessness
So that maybe one day our children will be received
without fear
Born into light
And we will be born too
