And finally
you arrived,
breathless,
after waiting
for months
in the wet warmth,
becoming you
inside your mother.

And then
you cried,
that first breath
pushed through
vocal chords
you learned
could be used
from then on.

We heard you,
Rachel,
mother first,
through tears
that were the first thing
she offered you,
tears she had been saving up
and didn’t know
were there,
tears
that made her milk flow,
milk
that will bond you
together as in
no other way.

And then
when she held you,
you stopped crying
because you knew
she would be yours
from then on.

And I cried too,
because already
I loved you
even though
we had just met.

I didn’t
know who
you would be,
Rachel;
I waited a long time
for you,
and it was dark
where I was, too.


Donald Everett Axinn
From The Hawk's Dream