Wait
To feel
the first flutterings
Of life
Wait
To push
To be cut open
To bleed
To heal
To hold
And nourish
Your own heart
Wait
To eat
To shower
To pee
To sleep
To dream
Wait
For your heart
To speak
To laugh
To smile
To sleep
To discover
To learn
To grow
To understand
Wait
With your heart
As she
Waits
To push
To be cut open
To bleed
To heal
To hold
To nourish
Her own heart
In the hospital bed
Beside you.
Wait,
You whisper
To your precious tired heart:
Good things do come.