FOR KARMIA ON HER THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY

FOR KARMIA ON HER THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY
i
I sing to you my darling daughter
Of how you came to be:
From the late night talking of lovers,
Who whispered your name so affectionately.

Not your given name, the one you
received at your birth.
We whispered your true name the
Impulse that bought you to earth.

The two of us to become one this night
So together we make three;
You are the third that walks beside us now,
Born of our ecstasy.

Born of a husband's will in obedience
to his desire.
Conceived and wived in her temple,
Between the water and fire.

Came out of a man and his lightning struck soul,
Into the sheltering storm of her bliss.
Wedded all night on our deep-sea pillow,
In the union of a deep-sea kiss.

Hoisted under her golden arch where liquid
Love let enter,
Flowed the attenuated humming chorus of the
Angels that sent her.

Now urgently seeking through her luminous
Membranes, his multitudes at God's trade.
The one to beach on her fire lit island
Where love is finally made.

And that love is the Pearl of a single cell
Floating in an amniotic sea,
And carries the meaning of the world made flesh,
The Song of Humankind’s destiny.

Oh, blessed is her womb that is compelled
To host,
The meaning of The Father, The Son and
The Holy Ghost

ii
After love is a golden boat afloat on a
Billow of calm.
Seeking restoration in sleep she yearns through
The crook of his arm.

Her cheek is at rest on the warmth of his chest,
He gently adjusts his shoulder;
And places his hand on the rise of her hip more
Lovingly in sleep to enfold her.

Instantly a flow of atoms begins as the
Matter of "you" is being made.
From the spiral of your chemical instruction set,
The construction of you is relayed.

Second by second, minute by minute, faithfully
And intricately unseen;
The shuttling and binding of long chain molecules
Stitched together by protein.

And this is the miracle of loaves and fishes and the
Change to wine from water.
A Ray of Creation made manifest in the body
And blood of my daughter.

And somewhere out there in the ribbons of stars,
There's a smile on our Creators face.
I think perhaps He's secretly proud of
His beautiful Human Race.

iii
Your first trimester saw Autumn fire and fog and
Wind and rain.
By December the filigrees of frost like lace are
White on the windowpane.

And perched on the handle of a forgotten garden fork,
Now frozen in the earthy floor,
The three note Robin whistles thrice for bacon,
Outside the kitchen door.

But there was no cold coming of it for you
My dear,
Not even at this the coldest time of
The year.

You slumbered through the brilliance of the
Christmas tree,
Slumbering on to your own
Nativity.

The trees are bare, the crows are black, the
Garden white with snow.
Late at night the warning owl can be heard,
Hunting far and low.

The dazzling flare of afternoon sunlight,
Low in a cold January sky;
The persistent dripping of February icicles,
Tells that winter is passing by.

iv
Your second trimester in sharp wind March,
Amid the crocus and daffodils of Spring.
By sundown the garden is muddy and sodden,
I wonder what the year will bring.

Late at night when the house is asleep,
By the silence of a friendly moon,
I can feel you being carefully crafted
Deep in your mother’s womb.

And I tell you all about your mother and brothers,
And I tell you all about me.
And I tell you how beautiful the world is,
And how happy you will be.

And I tell you about the trees and flowers,
And how the air and the sunlight feels;
And I tell you that fortune will ever run like a
Spaniel at your heels.

And I think that perhaps I'm back little mad,
Because somehow I expect you to guess,
That when I ask you a question I expect one
Kick for "no" and then two kicks for "yes".

v
By your third trimester I'm so in love with my
Beatific full-bellied bride.
Like a priestess at the Temple of Isis with
Secrets she cannot confide.

My loins are still a hunting flame she makes
The pulses in my body beat.
Everything about is powerfully sexual and
Erotically complete.

She is splendidly beautiful and radiant in
The fullness of her maternity;
Like a big-bellied galleon the billow of her sail
Running leeward out to sea.

Carrying the treasure of our bounded joy,
Majestically ripe and round;
I stand behind her and cup my hands over her
Tightly swollen mound.

I rest my head on the lee of her shoulder and
Scent the lactose under her skin;
And with my hands I can feel your tiny body
Restlessly moving within.

vi
And in July I am maid to my mistress eyebrow
In the fullness of the summer heat.
I lay her head gently down on the pillow,
So better to massage her feet.

Now full sultry breathless summer, how heavy
Each afternoon seems;
The waters of you hardly held back, waiting like
A dam burst of dreams.

Leo has climbed into ascendency, Jupiter and
Mercury are in line;
And now for this nine-month waiting mother,
Her panting clock calls "time".

The dark channel starts to open inside her, as
You knock for earthly admission.
The whale bone of her pelvic archway
Bends and bows in submission.

The busy bustle of merry midwives,
The lovely cooing of their words,
Conspire with her Titanic strength,
Crushing my fingers like the bones of birds.

And I look up and away and through the roof
Of this furious birthing place,
Past our little planetary system and
Deeper out into space.

Beyond the God-scattered Milky Way where
The spiralling galaxies swirl,
Then hear the joyous hymnal of the midwives
Sing "a girl, a girl, a girl!"

And there still tethered to your mother, your
Violet eyes hold me locked in full view,
And I know there will never be a moment,
When I would not joyously give my life for you.

Changi2 July - 30 July 2017