22 March 2010

A Nightly Travesty

For my 10-weeks baby.

Sweet mystery.
Eyes flutter under closed lids.
Do you dream of warm breasts and milk,
the funny fleshy fingers that find their way into your mouth,
or maybe of rolling over?
Sacred smile
that you offer in your sleep,
happy in the weary arms that hold you.
Inspired breath
flutters in and out and in,
your fragile life so present and so strong. 
This is your sanctuary,
where you offer the only worship you can muster.
To put you down would be unholy.