Poetry thursday 5.24.07

Most Exquisite Swell

Eleven o’clock, drifting to sleep, water
breaking, me a sudden tangle of wet sheets
as contractions washed over in savage waves
caught in the undertow, I had to force myself
to breathe, to find their rhythm—first in, then out—
barely relaxed in the lull between each swell.

Surprised, I noticed glad tears begin to swell
knew this was only beginning, the water
harbinger of that new life coming out
of me, so I peeled away the chilled, drenched sheets
as a trickle coursed down my legs, felt myself
surrender to sobs that heaved in salty waves.

I dressed: a dry shirt; a skirt draped in soft waves
hiding the towel that staunched the ebb and swell
weeping from my ready womb; shoes; then wrapped myself
in a warm blue coat, azure as calm water
against black March rain showering down in sheets
so prepared with a small suitcase I set out.

At the hospital, I was quickly thrust out
of labor’s deep groove, cast up on livid waves
subjected to IV, laid on sterile sheets
all those things I did not want, the viscous swell
of impotent rage congealed by ice water
a cup of cold comfort to hydrate myself.

Hours passed, ample time to flagellate myself
for failing to progress, to push my child out
after bearing down I slipped under water
drowning in self-doubt, sinking below waves
of sorrow for my frailty, a woeful swell
my defeat marked by the whiteness of the sheets.

Faced with decision I abandoned those sheets
chose gurney ride, harsh lights, at last gave myself
to liberating knife slice below the swell
of ripe belly, pressing, tugging, lifting out
tiny body, new life from my own, as waves
rocked me to sleep, swept me into calm water.

Mingled blood and water, rage and joy, those waves
ebbed away after the most exquisite swell
swaddled in soft sheets, I saw him for myself.