I love that, for a moment, you embraced,
neither wondering how the other came to be
in her loosened state, knowing
next to nothing of the contractions to come,
spasms of envy slaughtering the innocents
and the barely belated, cruel blows which would fell
them both, whom you had sheltered
with your bodies. I love that, for a moment,
fear was masked by morning sickness,
mourning by the interruption of a dove
bearing witness that a shiver can be ecstasy,
the skip of a heartbeat, love
instead of danger, the leap of a womb, joy
among the relentless tug and snag of life,
its swelling bruise a blessing.
Image: The Visitation Panel from Saint John Retable, Domingo Ram, via wikimedia commons
