Newborn

.
Until this moment, little apprentice person,
dwelling as you were within the womb,
            it would have been touch,
your fingers fluttering, your limbs
probing all the frontiers of your realm.

And hearing too, your mother’s heart and lungs
thundering like a mill or an engine house.
            Then something else,
something that you learnt slowly
and lovingly, like a musical score: her voice.

Just look at you now, our little explorer,
finding out about eyes, discovering light;
            and colour; and movement;
and your mother’s adoring smile.
Just look at you here, at dawn on the shore of your life.
.
.
© John Looker 2015

.
For Beth Eliza Jean
.