The excited laughter
and giddy chatter of children
explodes in the air.
Shattering the calm.
Destroying the peace.
I look down at the huge mountain that is my belly,
the volcano of my womb.
the fire blazing
at the centre of my universe;
A tiny child.
Bubbling larva at the core of my being.
Bubbling life, swelling,
soon to burst out in an eruption
of urgent crying.
Demanding.
Persistent.
Causing disruption, chaos, fear.
The inevitable loss.
Loss of my calm peaceful life,
Loss of my freedom.
Hot tears run down my cheeks,
Scorching my soul,
Like magma.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have created the dual feelings of an expectant mother: the excitement and fear for the future and the knowledge that nothing will be the same.