Praise

for your body,
the body
of my daughter’s
mother, praise for

hands pressed against
the stretched canvas
of skin, praise any song
clung to your lips,

the echo of your voice
wrapped round the deep
seed of your body,
which she dimly heard

through the salty swell,
a small stone tumbled smooth,
tonal waves turning her
in the tide of your breath.

praise for the blood
of your body and beat of blood
and the crimson
vein of nourishment,

for your DNA, the code
I will spend my life observing
in the twist of curl,
in the well of her eyes, praise

for beginnings,
the life she will unfold and wear,
your eyes looking forward,
your hand falling at her side.