Baby, you were so worth it! I worried so much. That birth was so hard.
You are so beautiful. I love you.
I wrote this while pregnant, hopeful and wondering about the child to come, trying not to count my chick before he hatched.
Crafted slowly, tenderly thoughtfully
this one is gilded, beauty-bright
This, covered in sugared violets, sparkles
in the Easter breakfast light.
Here, fern-green, unfurling fronds wrap around
this one, dark red, a soaking, velvet crimson.
This plain one, warm, hums like a honey bee.
One dew-damp from the morning chill,
another ringed with a quadrille of curliques
They nestle in the straw
in a circle softly mother-lined.
Behold! Tokens of inner wealth
yet what's inside,
the treasure lasting,
is not ours yet,
till in our hand.