You think there are only a few kinds of light,
Tones that warm, cool, soften or brighten.
But as I travel from birth to birth
The light of a welcoming space is different. Every. Time. Different.
This home is resplendent with warmth even on a November night that is so cool
I can see my breath in the air as I open the door of a house heavy with the anticipation of life.
The light is as consistent as the surges that come
And bring this baby boy to an awaiting throng of arms,
love, cheers, and stretching grins,
exploding with joy across faces that resemble his
and gaze at this miniature reflection with a promise to protect, love, teach.
Family is felt in the earthy yellows and browns
Of this midnight birth
Of a well loved boy.
They make life and birth and love look so easy
As they waltz through the halls of their home, cradling a blanket of hope tucked in that newborn nook in their arms.
Their astonishment is tangible in the small hours of a night turned to morning,
Dark still blanketing the outside world,
but in these rooms life is softly lit and love envelops each tiny detail with an unconditional embrace
and a promise to never let go.