softly beating rain,
on that ordinary October day –
sitting with my son, knitting mittens
for the unseen hands.
chopping veg, resting on the counter’s edge –
breathing deeply into the darkness when called.
hips circling to the unseen rhythm of bud to bloom dilation
with “a new perspective” on looping rotation.
broken baby waters: arching, crowning, rushed;
tinted birthing waters…lamplit room…hushed.
this fresh, still flesh-linked son
nestled in my arm’s nook
his eyes wide, wise, mesmerised,
as I scooped the waters over him.
the shape of him spilled his secret;
the curve of his eyes revealed
the unseen hidden extra;
three copies, not two
on number twenty-one.
and I drank him in,
this unexpected delight.
no primal screams, no broken dreams;
nothing to grieve, nothing to mourn
after forty weeks growing this unknown –
no fantasy baby incubating in my head.
the mother love
the father love
the sister love
the brother love
in the still hushed room,
we embraced our new kin.
First published as ‘Made of Human’ at A Spacious Life on March 20th 2014, on the eve of World Down Syndrome Day. An homage to my then 17-month-old son 😀
World Down Syndrome Day 2022
“on looping rotation” … Donald Byrd’s ‘A New Perspective’
“three copies, not two, on number twenty-one” … Chromosome’s R US