levi

you are at my breast,
and cannot thank God enough.
my family complete,
and growing, now just the pruning
to begin.

breakdown.
immovable.
i feel heavy.
the urge to shut down,
tighten and close.
yet the tears flow.
and when tears
come out,
hope makes it's way in.
it starts with the
tiniest light.
which becomes bright.
i still am weighted.
but the pain changes.

i think of the yarn
i threaded correctly
in a pattern with red
and green,
as i sit in a body
uncomfortable
not alone, a shell
hosting two beings.

the days are growing lighter,
and i heavier.
i cannot help but wish the
inevitable change would
come soon.
my body aches and it has
become hard not to curse.
and how blessed i should be
to feel this pain.

so flutter away silent one,
the movement speaks volumes.
as your siblings rival
you remain safe for this time
from the harshness of human nature.

the sweetest feeling of comforting tiredness,
at the end of a day that happens as it should,
with friends, family, food, and warmth,
in a small, yellow, wooden house called
home.

november week twenty three...

so i sit and sit
tired and happy
content but mystified
by the being that grows
inside,
so like your sisters
eager to press on my
ribs, maybe to escape
your warm home for now
not knowing what you
are in for...