Waking

I awake from gentle sleep.

I feel you stir:

Stretching, turning, smiling.

I smile, too, and embrace you,

Enclose you with love,

Sense your heartbeat,

And treasure the warmth we share.

In these languid moments

I wonder of your future

And await your first breath.

Then hurry to the bathroom.

Deborah Bolle  c 2004