Her hands begin to flutter and circle about her head like tiny butterflies,

She is as a geisha doing a sensuous finger fan dance

She is sign rapping a song of love

She is the conductor of an orchestra, holding the note high

and the musicians in silent rapture.

Eyes half closed in ecstasy

As her mouth suckles in celebration of this her only meal.

She caresses her ears and her face,

Grasping, sighing, searching to settle and grabbing again,

Her tiny  bowed lips taking deep deep drinks.

She makes quietly divine cooing noises and shudders with relief.

Her celebration unfolds, once again the telling of

the unity with my breast and her being, happy to coexist here and now.

Fed and full and Fiona.

17 Comments

    • Perfect description of the dance of need and desire and the rapture of fulfillment — baby-style. I can smell the milky breath.

      • Would it ruin the rapturous mood if I then mention the smell of barf on your neck right afterwards.

  1. Pingback: Post of the Week – Shalavee | The Bumble Files

  2. Shalagh, I thought this was so beautiful and it brought back so many memories for me. It’s such a precious time. I’ve made it my Post of the Week. Love, Amy

    • Wow, Amy, thanks. High praise from my writerly friend. I am very glad that I am in a frame of mind to enjoy her too. We preserve our memories of our children through these pages. Until they beg us to stop.
      Love Ya’,
      Shalagh

    • I am so glad to remind so many women of a lovely warm fuzzy with raising their children. And you make me blush with your praise.
      Love,
      Shalagh

  3. What a poetic description of nursing response
    from a baby. It must be wonderful to feel as
    secure, loved, satisfied, relaxed as she must
    be. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! infanthood. I started to say I remember those days, but that
    would be a big stretch. I wish I could take myself there mentally as a retreat. Just watching it with Fiona must be so fulfilling for
    you.

    Knowing your sense of the poetic, but also the
    REAL, I thought you might conclude your poem
    with “and the liquidy sounds coming from the
    diaper area and the accompanying pungent odor.”
    But I’m glad you stayed in the poetic moment
    and didn’t slip into prose.

  4. I was only thinking of you today and was going to catch your blog later. The heat brought me in and I saw your tweet. How you put into beautiful words what all babies do. You are such a talented lady Shalagh and your children are so lucky to have you. xx

    • Thank you Jennie. I suspect you of good parenting too but can’t prove it.
      Love,
      Shalagh

  5. Bravo my friend! This is totally transcendent & so chock full of images that are TRUE – I love it.

  6. Pingback: Post of the Week – Shalavee | Amy Reese Writes

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