Water-birth

Your crown burns like fire as you pass
From womb to warm water
Without a gasp
Submerged, head first
Eyes hidden,
Your fine hair sways like sea-grass
And the soft helix of your ear is born
Naked on my thigh.

All is still
And time is measured in a breathless pause
Generations seem to pass
Waiting for your shoulders to rotate,
Until
With pouting grimace
Your profile glides to view.
You are familiar, I know you.

A wave of agonising joy and you surge forth
Ejected and expelled
At once alone
Separate
Launched into life, at last
I lift you slowly and
Your head emerges
From the balmy water.

You take a breath, your first,
And murmur sweetly,
I breathe you in
Gaze into the dark universe of your eyes
And hold you to my breast.