A poem about the pure beauty of creating life.


1. Creation


I sit in awe of what lays in my arms.

Two tiny eyes squinting at me against the harsh hospital lights.

Hand so delicate and soft, gripping onto my giant thumb.

His naked legs are writhing and kicking, fragile toes flexing.

Barely born and yet so alive and I created it.

I begin to weep with uncontrollable joy, my tears fall down my cheek.

9 months of suspense, anxiety and fear all forgotten.

My baby boy is here and I smile upon him.

“You are so wonderful little man and I love you so much” I whisper.

I delicately kiss his matted tufty black hair.

I replace him back in his cradle.

I walk over to my rock, my goddess and bearer of life.

She looks weak and exhausted but yet so glowing and radiant.

“I love you darling” I say as I peck her pale lips.

She smiles and we both sob aloud at what we can achieve.

He’s our creation, a joy to share,

In our world of love and care.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...