Your hold on the earth
is so much less tenuous now
I have sustained you with my body
amazing thought
your mouth to my breast
eyes locked with mine
filled with trust
tiny hands tracing
ancient angelic sigils
on my skin
your voice has changed
from the frail bird-like cry
of confusion and frank fear
to an outraged surprise
at banged heads, delayed feeds
and the indignity of swaddling
I don’t know why you giggle
when I put my face close to yours
close my eyes and say ”boo’
but like Pavlov’s mutt I return
repeatedly for my reward
And when, finally, you drift off
into sleep, your hands continue
to conduct vast celestial orchestras
calling new planets into being
with the flick of a wrist