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Ode for a Fortunate Infant

Ode for a Fortunate Infant

Newborn: 
  Smacked and 
    Screaming —
 Hardly more than a new fact,
    A statistic
Already forgetting
    The crush into Becoming.
This “tabula rasa,” 
Kicking and flailing,
Not yet swaddled or cradled,
Held only by Fate
In the first minutes of Destiny 
  (unformed and waiting)
With a heart
Needing to be embracd
By more than just touch,
But blessed to completely feel
The warmth of Acceptance 
That founds a first sense
Of Identity as being a Self 
    Here linked with Others…
For the first lessons of Love — 
Swaddled in belonging
Wrapped with thanksgiving. 





(c) s.y.eslnger 5/24/2024
Thanks be to God…

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Duke Beaufort

Date: 5/28/2024 6:55:00 AM

Sally, this is great. Those who have the good luck to be born where there is acceptance and love are so blessed. This is important and nice to think about.

Hilda Greenhough

Date: 5/26/2024 7:33:00 PM

Beautiful babies, even some not as pretty, but who wouldn't want to take them home. Being born is somewhat traumatic and babies need swaddling. Thank you for a heartfelt poem.