Lastborn

Half a year ago, she arrived. the end of summer brought her
delivered from the cool impersonal hands of the surgeon, an indifferent stranger
to our arms.
her eyes so wide
bringing with them scraps of the bright cerulean sky
her eyes
fixing on us, her little mouth prim, a closed bud, her face
inscrutable. beautiful.
we welcomed her with delight, all of us together
a new cub for our pride
a new shout of defiance into the long dark
here we are! we endure
we grow strong

that first night, she and I alone
in the dim, cool hospital bed
I kept her in with me, tucked up in her bundle under my arm
close to the breast for suckling
my spine aching, tingling, fizzing, from the gone-wrong anasthetic
my belly ragged with blood and stitches
my heart dazed. overwhelmed with her
I examined her tapering fingers, one by one
her perfectly formed head, dusted with baby hair
her leg's folds of skin
I felt the tug of her newborn mouth on my breast
the slow and langorous flow of the thick firstmilk
I gazed on her and I knew her for mine
and I surrendered to visceral, irresistable love of her

At home
she fell easily into her allotted role in the family
the darling of the crowd
beloved of all beloveds
her curiosity apparent from early days, her serenity
in the multitudinous touches of sisters, parents, others
her smile, dawning at six weeks
an astonishment of joy, drawing all watchers
into her miasma of happiness.

The winter has brought movement, and conversation
"Ahhhh!" she says, in a seven-toned symphony
"Gsshhhh!"
and her chuckles, oh her laughter
a golden counterpoint to the gorgeous mirth of her two happy sisters
happy with a baby's unknowing, so entirely pure,
happy so very much. she
carries the warmth of her summerbirth in her

She
my lastborn child
my swansong baby
her eyes still so blue
so full of light
the light of ages in her
her soul so glorious
as she surges into spring
and greater knowing
and is, always and ever, my last answer to the eternal question
and a good answer. I am satisfied.

- Kathy, 22/8/09