|
Pregnancy and Birth Poems
These poems touched my heart and I hope they will yours.
No Child of Mine
No child of mine will walk in darkness while I have to give,
No child of mine will need for love as long as I shall live;
No child of mine will live tomorrow in dreams of yesterday,
No child, no child of mine.
No child of mine will lift his head to see a blackened sky,
No child of mine will suffer thirst from rivers that run dry;
No child of mine to live in peace will find he has to die,
No child, no child of mine.
No child of mine will rise to hear a bird that's lost his song,
No child of mine will touch a flower to feel its freshness gone;
No child of mine will be forced to do what he believes is wrong,
No child, no child of mine.
This earth will be a garden for my child and all his dreams,
A growing space, a place where he is free,
The sun and moon will be his guide, the wind will sing his song,
And love will grow as it was meant to be.
By Suzanne Pierson and Judy Jacobson
Little One
Little one inside me
How did you grow from a seed so small?
Tiny hands and a perfect face
Transparency shows your heart within
You dance and swim in my ocean
Each moment you know only joy
Do you feel my love?
Do you know my voice?
Do you hear my heart beat?
I don't need arms to hold you yet
Soon little one, soon.
Toni Swedberg
A Soul is Born
A soul is born
In a beautiful flash
Parents predestined
Life lessons are cast
Male and Female
Combined into one
A heart begins beating
Love's work has been done
Creative potential
Unleashed in this space
Cradled by Love
In a warm embrace
Free will is given
We have choices to make
Within the physical world
And to spiritually wake
In the hands of God
We started as love
An expression of self
Divine gifts from above
It's all there inside you
Be still and you'll see
We are love from within
I am you, you are me
So, love one another
That's the highest to give
Honor, release judgement
That's our reason to live
Kimberly Sauter
From the Beginning...
Mothers give the greatest gift,
that we on earth can receive.
A life to live and love to give;
the day she does conceive.
She carries me close, inside her.
Her heartbeat I do hear.
Her voice sounds like Angels singing-
The first sweet sound I hear.
Her touch is; Oh so gentle.
So secure I feel inside.
Only wondering how much longer,
in her womb I must abide.
Then the day comes,
when I no longer need to stay.
I only want to be outside-
in her arms I wish to lay.
I twist I turn,
I push I shove,
I open my eyes
and look above.
So scared I feel,
I just want to hide,
then her voice I hear,
so close by my side.
Then I see her-
The most Beautiful sight I've seen,
reaching out for me- her eyes full of tears,
yet still a happy gleam.
I snuggle and cuddle,
as close as I can.
As she kisses me gently,
and then takes me by my little hand.
I love her instantly,
as much as my small heart can bare.
Bundled up in her arms;
I grasp a strand of her soft hair.
I wrap it in my hand,
So, so very tight.
wanting to make sure that-
she is with me throughout the night.
I settle in quickly,
and slowly drift off to sleep.
As my mother carefully watches over me,
and counts each toe on my feet.
I see her in my dreams,
I feel her in my heart.
And I know this feeling will be here, in life,
even if we are apart.
So Mother, when you think of me,
know that this is true;
When I think of Undying Love,
Mother I am thinking of YOU!
Michele Petersen
THE LOVE INSIDE OF YOU
The greatest product of a love so deep
Is something that you will always keep.
It shall never go away.
There to remind you every day.
Of a special love starting with two.
Now it's carried well inside of you.
Conceived in love months ago,
Deep within, the love still grows.
The birth of a child, such a wondrous thing,
A special bonding that it will bring.
A newborn child, a newborn face,
Soon to take its rightful place.
Solely yours and here to stay.
Only God Himself can take it away.
The reality is, and it's true,
It' a world of love inside of you.
B.G. Wetherby
The Birthing
Who can say how it happened
but here it is
and here I am
caught in the mouth of the great tigress
mother earth
birthing goddess
feeling her teeth around my belly
and through my back
sabers of bone.
If I wriggle
look ahead or behind
I'm caught
like a nervous kitten on it's mother's teeth.
So I learn to dangle
hang suspended
from the great mouth
of the goddess of the jungle.
Surrender.
Until her movement is mine
and I am pacing
turning
bending
still loose-
suspended.
And I roar.
Feeling her pass through me
great mother
my lover
as we are born
and lie together.
Tiny child.
My body curled around
like a tigress and her cub.
By Christina Wadsworth
In Earth Life
When I heard my Mother say.
" the lettuce has broken
the black rich spring of earth"
I decided to look out
and see-
My Papa clenched with wet sweat-reaking hands
my mama's arm
and his half-closed grey blue eyes,
looking into hers
saw the joy
saw, with her third great push,
the reflection of my wet black head
perfect
and inhaling air
pushing the very breath of herself
into my lungs
a groan
almost a laugh
a tear
at my arms and legs waving in the air
covered with the scent of my Mama
touching the earth air
pressed next to that belly
connected with cord
yelling at the air
grasping a nipple
sucking for milk
mother-food.
My Papa's lips
touching Mama's
dried and cracked
joined
in earth life.
Jennifer Cortner
Love is
Love is
a newborn child
suckling her mother's breast
Tiny Hands
holding a finger
with a vise-like grip
While tiny mouth
works
in fierce concentration
Eyes close
a look of blissful satisfaction
comes over her face
She sleeps
By Dee LeClair
My Belly Holds a Baby Child
My belly is a plastic bag of fish and water
from a pet store. Whisking tails and noses
nudge my sides, seeking clues to their containment.
My belly holds a bag of chicken bones and rocks
and a salamander that pushes them around
with the changing tides of mood and body movements,
building shelters in the shifting sand.
My belly is a hydroponic potato plantation
where tubers knock about in zero gravity
and jointed branches shuffle in a random breeze.
The old wives tales are hardly stranger than the truth:
My belly holds a baby child.
Charlotte Yvonne Price
My Child My Dear
my child my dear
the ancient new one who lays so silent
the hidden heart beat within
you turn and move a captive in a myriad mount
my child my dear you are the spirit that has taken hold
who grasps and fights for freedoms snare
a battle we both have yet to face
my child my dear
the hour quickly is drawing near
your birthing a dance we two must do
oh my child, my yet sleeping dear
By Maria Valdez
My Inner Artist
Like a fierce decorator combing paint
down the walls of a tiny apartment,
keeping late hours twiddling the light switches,
hammering, chiseling, papering, and spackling
My child, you rearrange my womb.
You shape my belly like a sculptor
pinching out arms and hands, my navel.
A cruel instructor to give you this flaccid canvas,
but look at your attention to color!
I marvel at such early perception
of the subtle line, the power of an arc,
a soft shadow that glows darkly under the skin.
In your piece I am the curator
draping cloth down the belly,
and the belly pulsing expectant beneath it.
Remember this, unnamed artist, your craft can be such
a simple thing.
Ashley Harper
Nature Of Labor
Rumbling in my womb
not a noise - the feeling of
forces slowly congregating.
I feel the power gathering in my eyes,
in my ears, streaming
through my body
sharpening my perception.
Hours of increase
the rising tide, methodical lapping
waves of birth energy
flooding my being.
I'm afraid of drowning
losing myself to this
vast ocean of strength
threatening to overwhelm
what I feel as familiar
experience.
My lighthouse
the gentle soothing eyes
of my soul-mate
guiding me out of my turbulent sea
my quaking and shuddering
body of waves
giving birth.
Something happens
to one on an ocean
surrounded by waters
alone,
where there's nothing to relate to but
tremendous
undulating movement.
The mind lets go.
The identity sinks away
until one becomes what is perceived
the endless, timeless, seething
force of ocean
ones' former self
slips away unwillingly.
The waves of birth
for hours
jostle me.
I, too, reach the transition
like one on the waters alone
where the enormous will of nature is
All that I know
All that I feel
All that I am,
drowning out my former self
but not without a struggle.
Expansive, deliberate
Force, I am
delivering the child.
Quaking bellowing
heaving erupting
releasing all
She is Born!
She is Born!
slippery, wet and silver
turning to glowing pink
She is Born!
Author Unkown
Nestling
Deeply at peace, at home
like a bird in her nest
she sleeps soundly
on the furry chest of her father.
In pure adoration he watches
watery eyes with red rims
softness melting manliness
as her body rises and falls
his breath matching hers.
How is it that my insides flutter
when he gazes at her so?
Could it be
we all share
the same heart?
By Kheyala Rasa
Nobody Knew You
Nobody knew you
" Sorry about the miscarriage dear, but you couldn't have been very far along."
...existed.
Nobody knew you
" It's not as though you lost an actual person."
...were real
Nobody knew you
" Well it probably wasn't a viable fetus.
It's all for the best."
...were perfect.
Nobody knew you
" You can always have another!"
...were unique.
Nobody knew you
" You already have a beautiful child. Be happy!"
...were loved for yourself.
Nobody knew you
...but us.
And we will always remember
...You.
By Jan Cosby
Quickening
This baby moves inside me now
Sending messages at night-
Morse code
About life on the inside:
It is dark
But warm and quiet
With only muffled echoes softly pleading,
Wake up, little one.
I want to know you're in there,
Happy and safe.
Answers come again-
A sudden flutter-
Secret lyrics of song with no rhythm.
Played with hands and feet.
Someday I will hear the song again-
A high-pitched, quick and breathy humming.
I will teach her that she's been singing that old song forever,
And reach out for little splayed hands
That have long since held my heart.
By Yvette Benavides
Ripening
As the baby, from seed to worldly entrance ripens
So does the mother's consciousness mature through revelations
of life's beginnings-
During this, their growing season.
Out of man and woman's union springs the fruit-
A child swelling 'neath a woman's belly,
And the Madonna-ripening fruit of womanhood.
Joining forces, father and mother weed out their fears, To clear the ground and prepare the way for the day of harvesting.
On that day, they reap as they sow, the fruits of their labor.
Author Unknown
The Silence Of A Moment
He came to me in the silence of a moment
Then an echoing cry, my child was born
A wrinkled bundle so beautiful to me
The efforts of birth now forgotten.
A mellowing whisper
A sight to see
The rewarding laughter
So happy to have
A son.
He is now placidly at my breast
And I too sit contented
He, knowing I am there
I, knowing he is there
Finally we rest together.
By Nancy Stegman
Twenty Weeks
I am a nest.
Round, warm
moist
protective
nourishing
hatching
and growing
a young life.
Providing comfort
security, love
and shelter.
To you I give of me
and you
miraculous little one
are already able to give so much to us.
Tonight we sit
laughing as you
tell us jokes with your
kicks and prods.
Your movement has changed from butterflies to Luna moths
and now to kicks that Papa can feel too.
Our faces spread into smiles as my belly and our hands
feel your presence.
We are a family.
Unknow Author
Undelivered
In the dream I wake and walk to the bathroom
where I feel your skull moving low, its surface
through my skin hard and grainy as a stone
where you stretch me but there is no pain,
you say I am coming, I am coming, suddenly
passionate about this passage you press
your head into the narrow mouth and now
palming your slick crown, I limp
back to the bed where I birth you into my hands,
suck the white from your nose and hold you
breathing in the blue night, the night where I meet you,
where you drink my milk as you drank my blood,
where you have left my body to meet my body,
and I thank you for coming, I thank you for coming to me.
By Melissa Crowe
|
