waiting for a birth

everything is good
and a healthy c-section is expected
in 4 days,
says the doctor

so the hours stretch out like deserts
with the sacred mountain
in view.
conversations and distractions
become the little birds
flitting distant among the cactii,
meals the lizards they catch

years of creation and dissipation
months spent in libraries
months spent in bar-rooms
wandering among tomes and tombs
soon to be rewarded
and forgiven
(for the second time)

the primal hands of creation
are hard at work;
a million details of our genetics
to be replicated and mixed
bonded and trusted.
the sacred day looms
great jagged peak that it is

meanwhile,
below on the masculine desert,
a hot wind blows
and even the shadows of the cactii
lag tired
from long-waiting exertion

we wait and struggle
together and separate
separate and together