I was wearing a dirty T-shirt
And work boots
Waiting for you
To come join us in this world
When the nurses gathered
All concerned together
Like wise witches
Or sorceresses
Invoking magic words
CODE 3
In a sudden storm
Of paper gowns
And haunting
Squeaking and squealing
Of the gurney wheels
And monitoring equipment
With all the arcane
Beeping and whistling
Heralding
The arrival
Of the new born child
I held your Mother’s hand
In my hand
I cradled her head against mine
As the Doctor
Mysterious shaman
Wrapped in a robes of blue
Cut her belly open
You were stuck fast
In the Canal of Life
You were born
Covered in blood and bruises
With a black eye
And a full head of hair
Your hands balled up into fists
Your feet kicking a storm
Your lungs filled with air
For the first time
Your mouth wide
You announced yourself arrived
I cut the cord
The physical anchor
To the Well of Souls
I sang to you
As I brought you
To your Mother
My tears fell freely
Onto you
Washing along your face
I have never cried like that before
I don’t think I ever will again
I doubt I will ever see anything
So beautiful again
©workingclassproduction.com, 2016