Birth

Suddenly, announcing love,

I touch this life in me,

This truth, this soon to be

Solid, this life awaiting me,

And I shall meet him there

Where there is no moon,

No stars but faces worn

With vigil and concern,

Masklike and heaving

Under artificial light.

There will be no sleep,

No twilight calm, no pain,

No syllables but pure primal

Rhythmic knowing, an urgent

Forward flow, a powerful arched

Wave, love, rhythm, leaves

Opening, opening.

The whiplash of love,

An arched flight of utterance

Common, hieratic, and he comes!

Aghast at too many faces

(we should have been alone

This first first meeting),

New ties: already, he is a lover.

by Ophelia Alcantara Dimalanta