9.26.2011

Labour Ward

by V.E. Thomas


Give us this day our daily miracle.
Exchange our offering of sweat and tears
And, most of all, of blood,
For new life, crumpled as a new leaf bud.
A child is like a pearl, made of pain.
And, as we sweat the spiral through again,
There’s something holy in this moment now.
The mingled prayers and blasphemies, ‘I can’t I can’t’
Become I can, because I must, because
All life pares down into this single point
The baby. And here at last she comes -
High perfect cry, eyes closed against the light,
Triumphant, exulting. I wash my hands and leave.
They need me for the miracle next door.