Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
A preludium of a morning. The sudden sound of the calling bell. A woman's waterline breaks through the walls. The rowing of the midwife commences. Charting transitions by its miniscule degrees, integers. Looking in on the mouth of the womb as holy land. Negotiating with the flustered ****** coaxing her widening. The gated reverb of labor is a miraculous performance unique to each woman. Earth shudders, believing the restless hour to be an act of God, come hither in the shadow of expectation. A pantomime then between midwife and mother. Stage directions float above the frightened audience. Each hour is a little war. But love of this nature is an underwater dancer, it asks you to trust the danger. The ripples. The siege. The arrival. A time of quiet. "Beginnings are such delicate times."
0
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 3:44 AM UTC
Playing the Midwife
A preludium of a morning. The sudden sound of the calling bell. A woman's waterline breaks through the walls. The rowing of the midwife commences. Charting transitions by its miniscule degrees, integers. Looking in on the mouth of the womb as holy land. Negotiating with the flustered ****** coaxing her widening. The gated reverb of labor is a miraculous performance unique to each woman. Earth shudders, believing the restless hour to be an act of God, come hither in the shadow of expectation. A pantomime then between midwife and mother. Stage directions float above the frightened audience. Each hour is a little war. But love of this nature is an underwater dancer, it asks you to trust the danger. The ripples. The siege. The arrival. A time of quiet. "Beginnings are such delicate times."
Carlo-C-Gomez
Written by
56/M/The Exclusion Zone
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 3:44 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem