The seventh poem from my poetry collection Conception.

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Mummy marvels…

at those big blue eyes which see beyond the physical
to grasp at images in the air
where adults think there’s nothing there.

at the wisdom of expressions in that baby face
which, with its chubby Buddha cheeks,
tells more truths than words can trace.

at butterfly hands in constant flight,
which speak without the art of speech
and hold the whole world in their reach.

at the softness of those virgin feet,
which have not yet trod blades of strife,
and only know that milk tastes sweet.

at the fusion of perfect from two imperfect beings,
which takes us back to the ovum where life was first begun
and the thought: ‘Is all flesh one?’