Tuesday poetry

Yes, it's that day again! Bad poetry again, sigh. I didn't have a story this week, so the Music Man challenged me to write about the baby. The baby? Who can't write about a beautiful baby? Yeah, I couldn't. So I wrote a little about her birth. Not grisly, don't worry! Did I mention that my baby is six months old today? Already!

Breaking Point


The pool is warm, almost hot
The steam dances off of the high walls and
Leaps from my arms

I fade in and out from the pain
Riding the waves
I fall over them backwards
trying not to drown inside my own body

The time is short
and moments sputter, stall, and stay

Suddenly the moment is crystalline
and I yell

I bellow, and I feel the women before me
and my Jesus in me
and the angels singing over me

Eyes clamped shut and mouth wide open,
I sing my baby down
A monotone crescendo
It flows and falls and comes under control

And there she is,
Floating from the watery deep
Into my arms

My joy is here,
My Jubilee
I exult in you.