Mother
Fifteen minutes has passed
The sun is streaming through the window
Warming her face
The brightness of it pains her eyes
She looks away
Noise outside the window
Droplets of water that formed on the leaves
Now become rivulets on the central pathway
Travelling to the leaf tip and dropping
Splashing into the gathered puddles on the ground
Small birds flitting through the branches
Slaking their thirst with the freshly fallen life
Now chirping announcing their presence
For those who would listen
She turns to the sweet melodic sounds
Unable to see from where she lay
Kicks with delight making her own sounds
Still dazzled by the light there are shapes
Shapes and shadows on the reflective pane
Oh if she could make them out
A familiar sound approaches
She giggles and in her happy oblivion
The absence of knowledge blissful
Fifteen minutes had passed
Since she was placed here
Since the first drops of the summer shower
Driven to hit the window by the wind
Entertaining her eager mind
The large shadowy shape is here
There is a familiar pleasant scent
She burbles with pleasure at the touch
She floats effortlessly upward
Grasping the cloth in her tiny hand
She nestles in the bosom of her mother
© Hamish McKenna