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Created on: July 09, 2008 Last Updated: January 23, 2011
From the cradle of innocent birth,
we embrace the touch of immaculate worth,
amidst sweeping streams of miracles,
looming life awakening tender delicate features,
Beauty held its breath to face the new world,
And event begins reality; strong and sacred,
Bright and sanguine, first they are soft then toned,
And every celebration honors the new home.
Drawn by skillful proportion through wavering pool,
In cradled rest, to wanton breast from a mother’s womb,
Where the realm of nature gives birth to life,
And creation groan with stronger breathe incite,
Reach where the soul is hot and moving around.
On birth, humanity meets on the same winding road,
Straining with our burden, torn between the cross,
Pondering how long the next breath will last.
To fill agony with hope, and discover new birth,
With fiercer squeeze came exploding strength,
And all joys heard the blessed voices cheer,
Delightful praise sang merrily to the brimming air,
and birth let time bring delivery of beautiful species,
Which knows not the wait the universe accepts?
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Poetry: On birth
(This is not a rhyming poem, but one of prose.)
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The waters will still ebb and flow,
the moon still pull the tide,
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From the cradle of innocent birth,
we embrace the touch of immaculate worth,
amidst sweeping streams of miracles,
Begins the passage of time,
Marking down the date,
We will mark the passage of time,
I have marked this fourty-seven times,
Living
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"A New Life"
Sitting here lonely in a waiting room
Silence is all around, and all we can do is wait.
Listening for the cry
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