Tale from the labour room.


She yells and crys out loud,
yet no man can comprehend labour pains.
She laments in all forms of sound,
so the life in her can be unveiled.

He would stand there confused,
trying to phantom what she feels.
His words of solace would be of no use,
because she blames him for this fate.

She yells and crys in this miracle,
as a new breed emerges from her.
For comfort, she calls forth her creator and oracles,
for even science doesn’t know how far.

He would stands as a source of comfort,
making sure she feels his presence.
He is glad when the baby finally comes forth,
as he looks in her eyes, all the drama makes sense.

poetry by Iyentosan

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