My Grandmother used to say this little verse to me all the time.  I can’t for the life of me figure out who she was talking about.  I was a little angel.

I am not the same person

Invaded, my body is not my own my belly rolls and kicks with a power I don’t possess I am [...]]]> a journey started in a moment of heat
making love, making a child
at the same time making myself
something more than myself
changing from woman
to mother

I am not the same person

Invaded,
my body is not my own
my belly rolls and kicks
with a power I don’t possess
I am possessed
the new life within my body
changes my body:
juicy curves
rosy cheeks
thick hair
long nails
glowing skin -
I feel the weight
of my husband’s eyes

there is more to me now
I feel the connection
I am the connection
between past and future
I am full of hope
full of life
I see the smile in your eyes
when you see my belly
strangers fall over themselves to get the door
my husband holds my hand as we cross the street
then doesn’t let go

at home I rest
my husband wraps himself around me
palming my belly, whispering
“my two greatest loves
right here in my hand”

lady in waiting
simultaneously wishing
to speed up time
and hold this moment forever

Not that I didn’t have enough going on what with the pregnancy and sinus issues and papers due at school, but I just thought I’d let you know that we’re moving this weekend.

Yay! Really, it is a good move, I just don’t [...]]]> cardboard,
tape, knife
sharpie;
colorful life
packed
in brown boxes

Not that I didn’t have enough going on what with the pregnancy and sinus issues and papers due at school, but I just thought I’d let you know that we’re moving this weekend.

Yay! Really, it is a good move, I just don’t want to do all that work.

Just so ya know, I may not be posting much for a while. I’ve got my hands full.

By John Ciardi

Most like an arch—an entrance which upholds and shores the stone-crush up the air like lace. Mass made idea, and idea held in place. A lock in time. Inside half-heaven unfolds.

Most like an arch—two weaknesses that lean into a strength. Two fallings become [...]]]>

Most Like an Arch This Marriage

By John Ciardi

Most like an arch—an entrance which upholds
and shores the stone-crush up the air like lace.
Mass made idea, and idea held in place.
A lock in time. Inside half-heaven unfolds.

Most like an arch—two weaknesses that lean
into a strength. Two fallings become firm.
Two joined abeyances become a term
naming the fact that teaches fact to mean.

Not quite that? Not much less. World as it is,
what’s strong and separate falters. All I do
at piling stone on stone apart from you
is roofless around nothing. Till we kiss

I am no more than upright and unset.
It is by falling in and in we make
the all-bearing point, for one another’s sake,
in faultless failing, raised by our own weight.

The Collected Poems of John Ciardi (University of Arkansas Press, 1997)

6 years after our first date and I wouldn’t change a thing.
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