Right now my daughter's in pain.
She's having a baby,
and though I know
that doctors and nurses and midwives
have things pretty much under control,
I can't help praying to a God
I've never really believed in much,
just in case he (or she) is really up there.
Let's face it, there's always a risk,
and I ponder on the bravery of mothers.
Perhaps they're instinctively strong,
or feel some kind of duty,
but I salute them all.
Comments
This is an incredibly difficult subject to tackle
It seems to me you have pretty much stated the obvious.
It would be brave, and probably cop much criticism from feminists, if you wrote it far more subjectively. Your own fear, anguish, hopes and yes, even prayers.
Worry
I think I may have already done what you suggest in a poem called "Worry" but I can't remember if I've posted it yet or not.
Best wishes,
Robert.