Battle Born

In water, a bed or home they lie
As far can be from mortal rest
Death will be faced here
The flesh exposed
Still but not silent
For in this womb a
In opening heart and body
With the web of medical and mettle
In the
Her love and fight for the battle born
Will end with the shine of her skin
And the beauty of her sacrifice.

In the fevered lights
That stare and watch and wait
Breaking over surgical gloves and masks
Washing over lovers’ hands
The stage light blinding, calling, waiting.

Warlords duel beneath the sky
Fighters wrestle in the ring
And bladesmen’s knives wink in dark of day
But not this fight
Only the body warring with itself
The scream to push and tense and strive
To meet the duty set in sells
For months of care, her hours of hell.

As a star is born
A quark’s spin shift
Or scream adrift
Harsh pressure
Breathes life and
Breeds light within all things
Closest in womb’s wrestle
Body bringing forth
Another body heart-in-hand.

No wreathes of laurels will she see
No goblet set, no crown of fire
But older deeper prizes near
The root and heart of lifetimes dear.

The hosts of chemicals come from
Canisters and hearts
All pumped and place to dim the pain
But not the struggle
As hands cup the cheek of the saviour
That shoulders their burden
The waters of life
The one long broken, the sweat of toil
Run from her before the life swimming into being
Where two decide
And multiply
In the miracle of life
Wrought like all beauty
From something else we rarely see


By J.W.H. Hobbs

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