First Love
Outside the sterile nursery I stood,
looking in.
So many snuggly swaddled newborns asleep in little plastic cribs;
my eyes hungered for only one . . .
A nurse was bathing you,
removing the remnants of your forming nest.
Her face filled with wonder and adoration.
"Is this one yours?"
Soundless question behind glass . . .
"So beautiful!"
I had watched your head crown between your mother's legs;
rapt . . . awaiting the first glimpse of your face.
A mass of wet black curls and then your eyes;
you were born and I was smitten!
Unexpected, the rush of brand new love I did not know existed.
First grandchild!
You opened the door to a different world,
love wild and fierce,
protective and totally absorbed.
Four more times that door has opened,
love's arrow piercing my heart . . .
when you hurt, the pain twists within me.
You are the soul sunshine I crave,
my grandchildren.
Copyright, September 18, 2014
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