catapult magazine

Expectancy

by Christina Crook

You, my child.

your hands, as webs,
reach out to touch my insides.
“mommy, i am here.”

you knit my womb and heart
together with strings.
your smile already my companion.

angel,
you speak to me through your rumblings,
coursing blood, water, tears
out from my fingertips.

i imagine your steps,
giant, small
and wonder at your nature.

i crawl, small,
into my Father’s hands,
whispering thanks,
gasping for all of the Love
in the world there is to give
because you deserve it
my darling.

i imagine your face,
wrinkled, calm
swimming through your childhood
already begun.

i marvel at your daring heart,
already,
wishing nothing but hope and
promise and life —

lovely things,
lovely things
for you.

you wake now
with passion
stirring like earthquakes
as i pray.

your voice is calling out
“amens,”
i can hear you saying your
yeses,
saying yes to the world.

“yes world, I Am coming.”

 

Image courtesy of Avital Kline.