To My Daughter [Poetry]

To labor a child is a tremor of fierce endurance
Five minutes to midnight, on July 1, she shows her head
And conceals it back afraid of a life not yet known

The last spasms of an all-night rain flare, exhausted in faraway rumbles
The smell of ether, acetyl, neoprene offend my nostrils
At the moment of frozen angst her cry rips space time with joy and reprieve

The anesthesia needle, invasive, mechanical, turned invisible into the skin
She looks burnished, filled with anger, fragile, and hungry
At this age there is no notion of destiny and its incessant nuances

At this moment what is to be, seems a faltering eternity away
When the cord’s been plied and cut and the blood flow restrained,
When the ugly placenta’s been extracted, a viscous carcass of flesh

When she is deposited in my arms in a minute lump of cobalt cloth
Space time holds its breath again oblivious to the strange machinations
Her placid murmur and bolted eyes bestow:

The earnest fantasies of a father in trance unconscious of storms to come
A torrent of plans stopped by the dam of this instant never imagined right.
I unpin my mind from sidereal clouds while a tiny hand struggles under
 the lump and escapes towards mine, rustic, blind, eager
Its rosé color blends soft nails, brittle skin and sapphire veins
A white plastic hospital tag wraps her small wrist
 affection-baby-birth-266055 (1)
Displaying the girl that bears my last name now sleeping beyond flesh and bones
This day, ignorant of the distortion of mirrors, unaware of calibrated separations
Will help me defeat dispassionate distances and rippling farewells ahead

There will be a time in which we will rise again from ashes and glittering clocks
There will be a time of violent ruptures and broken promises
In this hour we will find the strength to go on, the indestructible love at the inner center

Written by  Danilo Lopez – Miami, Florida

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