Inheritance (16,800)
As a baby is born
cradled in the arms of a mother,
the mother gushes with love,
is it love the child brings with them?
or is it the mother’s love that arrives first?
Why does the mother’s eyes fill with tears of joy? at least most time
I don’t think a child brings love with them but instead the child is love- one in the same,
for some hold her with hope and some with fear
in tiny fragile limbs and eyes that see you as the sun-
how wondrous it is to hold in sweaty palms a testament of true devotion,
commitments of generations and generations that came before?
their love for hate,
their love for wars
their love for themselves,
love for someone other than themselves
their love for their flesh,
their love for joy,
their love for art,
their love for life
This fragile body a testament of a spirit that permeates through time, stands her tests, wars with her
that holds firm and stubborn as the grip of a new born
that makes something beautiful out of the ugly
As a baby is born
pinched and smacked awake
Her cries ring through - shrapnel-shrill and sharp
of something infinite, pure and impure
as a baby is born she inhales some of the breath of the dead,
tiny cooes, sleepy eyes, hungry bellied
surrendering to the mercies of a cruel or kind world
did this tiny body really choose its destiny?
Worthy as seeds to the sun
roots latching on to the earth
how they know to need each other,
how they know to hold and love on each other
this love that bends but never breaks, and pushes through
this body that takes form in the dark, hungry for the day it meets the light
makes a spectacle of his or her arrival, like lost royal blood returning for their inheritance.