Poem of Giving Birth

Poem of Giving Birth
9/20/07 10:59am

I told my wife
I was writing a poem of giving birth
She turned and snickered
As I sat by the hearth

What do you know of giving birth?
You’re a man; you don't know what life is worth?
She did not know my that heart was steady
She did not know my womb was ready

As I sat by the hearth
I nurtured its worth
I could feel it was alive
It was ready for birth

The poem in me
Was coming to life
I could feel it growing
So much for the snickers of my wife

For the exact day it was conceived
I did not know
Or how it would form
Or how it would grow

But I could feel its life growing in me
I could feel its heart beat and all its need
For it would kick me late at night
And awaken me with joy and not strife

And the joy in my soul
As a stayed up at late at night
I could feel its heart beat
I could feel its life

All other things took second place to me
I could feel it growing
I could feel its need

To grow and develop
To be nurtured and be freed
To one day have life
That was its need

I dreamed of dreams
Of what they would be
Of whom they would touch
Of whom they would see

I was pregnant, and ready to conceive
And every few days was a new birth
As the poems came to life
As I sat by the hearth

I did not know when each would be born
Would it be late at night, afternoon or morn?
Some where born in the night
Others were born for days of strife

Some where born for the spring
Some were born so freedom would ring
Some where born in afternoon showers
Some where born just for this hour

Some where born for destiny
Some where born to set people free
Some where born so others could know
Maybe a direction or which way they should go

Each had purpose and each had need
To reach out to others and be set free
So they could roam and plant seeds
So they could eventually fulfill their destinies

So hard it would be to set them free
For they were my children, of them I had need
For they were born of trouble and strife
Of peace and of joy, of hope and of life

On the day they were born
I eventually knew they would roam
So if you find one of my poems
Please give it a good home.

Love it and cherish it
And to someone set it free
So it can nurture others
… And fulfill its destiny.

Written by James G. Wood
Copyright © 2007 James Wood