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  • Unexpected Birth

    Sitting by the window I watch the
    newborn
    sun unfold
    and stretch its long, giddy rays.
    They dance through a crisp mural
    of autumn,
    the clusters of light churn and fuse
    in celebration of something;
    something set free from the
    womb.
    Maybe it is the birth of this new day.
    Perhaps
    it is the birth of something else.
    Whatever the cause for such merriment
    it looks as if a shower of diamond chips
    has been delivered.
    Almost as if the Luna Moth chiseled speckles
    from faraway stars and released them
    scattering them in my backyard so that
    brilliant light
    could romp and play there.
    Its radiance is so captivating that even
    the Grackle has no choice
    but to soothe her baby
    and croon to the morning a love song.

    But, on the wall behind me
    I see black shadows that
    stain and smash the dazzling light.
    The blackness is like something that
    Satan sent.
    It moves in jerky, chaotic motions without
    so much as a trace of graceful orchestration.
    It’s like hearing the cello howl at its strings.
    All I need to do is turn around,
    direct my attention
    forward
    to see
    this thing of beauty that lies before me.
    Only then can I
    hold
    a precious diamond chip
    in my arms
    and cradle the sweet lullaby of
    unexpected birth.

    Pamela Wilonski
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