Little Ocean

You came into the world blue,
and hands first,
a tiny clutch of fist and promise
raised to the light.

I remember you
lifted loose with
the goddess rope,
that hotline back to the big everything,
wrapped once around your neck,
the great ocean holding on too long,
not wanting to let its daughter go.

Every one has that terror moment, I know.
Your blue arrival was mine.

I remember it,
as you were lifted loose,
the doc untangling you,
the tiny mask breathing oxygen into you,
you blooming pink,
sparks kindling into perfect popping fire,
and the universe breathing out.

You, long awaited, a slow rising wave that finally broke,
you sang an ocean worth of salt and song,
as something long asleep,
and buried deep inside my chest,
cleared its cobwebbed throat.

And I remember you,
sprawled across your mumma’s chest,
with curled fingers
tapping your morse code hello,
your first filled lungs
singing out their ocean songs,
your at last opening eyes,
and the first flash of a
gentler kind of blue,
from a tiny holy ocean,
that both our hearts
swam into.

higher higher higher

your hands are so small
they are as small as galaxies
the moon is inside your mind
it is a firefly buzzing
these stars are so gentle
you could hold them on your tongue
I would reach up and pluck them down like apples
I would balance one on my forehead
and say hey kid come shoot this star out my eyes
and if you missed
I wouldn’t mind
I would be happy
I know your hands hold galaxies
I have seen you spin song from dead space
pulling arrows from your love struck dad’s face
would be apple pie easy

For Holly

You have been a long time coming
You slow sunrise
You slow falling winter moon

You are a holy factory of smiles
You are mudfights about to start
You shining spear of stars and heart
Throw yourself into the air
Sing your arrival song
Howl it into the quiet
Explode into our hearts

You are here at last
and this world
is going to love you.