Letter to My Daughter
Thou metst with things dying, I with things new born
I was several weeks pregnant when I first took a look at the world inside myself. Ian didn't realise you would be moving. I myself had yet to feel the thudding and arching which would wake me up in the middle of the night in the months to come. It was hard to connect myself to that black and white image. It is still difficult to extend my disbelief; is that really you ? Hard to see. A soft sometimes-outline floating in nothing on a dark screen.
You are the one who will push my stomach to the skies.
I will feel your limbs almost in my thighs.
Dancing as I begin to sleep
Moving my heavy frame with a whisper
I first saw your picture on the day that Eithne died. Perhaps the world is breathing in to let you come out.