Bora born
First breath _
Earth watch, birth watch,
the large pupil dilating.
Gotta be here, was told I had to,
our collective dreaming unfolding.
Too bright these lights,
strangers circled round.
Direct viewing from the minister in charge,
arms folded, to play his fiddle,
to those who would listen.
Detached from her,
pain like this he's never known,
what would he know about birthing.
Thank God for the mid-wife,
the mother's name sake to test his nerve.
Both parents present,
she's been around them for some time.
Testing, resting, sussing out,
the tiny body this kind.
Abusing her, nearly losing her,
from an accident, then binge drinking.
Survived nine months,
but she has chosen them,
a sign of times still to follow.
The head withdraws,
from that warm embrace,
testing the air, eyes now wide open.
The memory saved, emerging cavelike,
unmoulded, pristine,
the same path her own children to follow.
Time to go,
through the corner of the eye,
on that first breath,
her spirit slips in, a silent entry.
No cries are heard,
an old soul this one,
eyes searching for whom she remembers.
Then bundled up,
in that fleecy white rug,
later to be blessed in water then weighed.
His spirit she's now caught,
as he stands opposite,
near the mother,
ice blue light to turn her head.
The gaze not broken,
when welcomed by all,
her chin to the mid-wife's shoulder.
Head still turned, gaze still held,
love not spoken,
hello dad, I'm now your daughter.
- O -
© 2004 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
Author's notes and media are here.
the large pupil dilating.
Gotta be here, was told I had to,
our collective dreaming unfolding.
Too bright these lights,
strangers circled round.
Direct viewing from the minister in charge,
arms folded, to play his fiddle,
to those who would listen.
Detached from her,
pain like this he's never known,
what would he know about birthing.
Thank God for the mid-wife,
the mother's name sake to test his nerve.
Both parents present,
she's been around them for some time.
Testing, resting, sussing out,
the tiny body this kind.
Abusing her, nearly losing her,
from an accident, then binge drinking.
Survived nine months,
but she has chosen them,
a sign of times still to follow.
The head withdraws,
from that warm embrace,
testing the air, eyes now wide open.
The memory saved, emerging cavelike,
unmoulded, pristine,
the same path her own children to follow.
Time to go,
through the corner of the eye,
on that first breath,
her spirit slips in, a silent entry.
No cries are heard,
an old soul this one,
eyes searching for whom she remembers.
Then bundled up,
in that fleecy white rug,
later to be blessed in water then weighed.
His spirit she's now caught,
as he stands opposite,
near the mother,
ice blue light to turn her head.
The gaze not broken,
when welcomed by all,
her chin to the mid-wife's shoulder.
Head still turned, gaze still held,
love not spoken,
hello dad, I'm now your daughter.
- O -
© 2004 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
Author's notes and media are here.
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First breath _
First breath _
