Tuesday

you like the sound

is that why
you like
sleeping
on my chest?

yours beats
so fast

and your
mother's
must have been
loud
while you were
there

that is
a passion
i hope
you never
outgrow

to listen
closely
to another heart

courtship

how does one
fall
in love
with a child?

taking you home
from the hospital
seemed surreal

we were tired
relieved
more than anything

since then
the only pause
to the taking care of you

has been for our own naps
we worry too much at times
to wonder

and yet we steadily
seem to be
falling

there is no jumping
of flesh of my flesh
bone of my bone
myself seeing part of myself
in your fragile hands

maybe the drowsiness
enchants
and we bond
despite ourselves

maybe like a dance
rehearsed over a thousand steps
or a piano piece
practiced for hours
the flow becomes a part
of our selves

then there is that
amazing
newness

each new day
you seem to be
new
and you surprise us
with you
over and over
again

Sunday

priorities

you force time
to stop
or at least
our time
to stop

you first
here
now
in your eternity

I am tempted
like all parents
before me
like all parents
after

to imagine
the deeds you will do
to dream dreams
for you

but
here
now
in your eternity

I am sober
and I know
all I really want
is to be

here
now.

needed

often I feel
like a
spectator

in your intimate
dance with
your mother

she sustains you
you adore her

I am but a bit-player
bottle-holder
diaper-changer

but then there are those
naps
when you insist
on sleeping on my chest

Saturday

they grow so fast

i have to
remind myself
before I lose
the moment
when you cry
out your lungs

and I cradle
you

small enough
light
fragile

in my arms

and look at your delicate fingers

that time is quickly slipping
past my own.

diaper zen

it's always
either
your nappy
or gas
or hunger
but it takes some guessing
and rocking to calm you
I say, wait
a minute
or two
while I heat the bottle
of milk from your mother's
breasts
it does not matter
whether it is
a minute
or two
as what is a minute
to a newborn?
eternity?