attending the birth

 

some mornings
i find myself
on my knees,
seep wet to the night’s rain,
attending the birth of a goat –

the world for a moment still
as first feet then nose push
unmoving to the waiting world –
an inanimate pause
while the mother strains,
then head and body
slippery and warm
struggling for upright
and breath.

there is not much for me to do
but watch and wait –
rub them dry with old towels
if the day runs chill,
sometimes clear a mucous nose.
wait and watch while the mother speaks
soft and low as they unfold those first legs –
push upright, nurse, breathe, live.

some days i find myself
on my knees
seep wet to the night’s rain
giving thanks for blood
and life
and morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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