You Being Born Poem by Brian Jones

I saw you born.
It was remarkable.
You shot out from between your mother’s legs
like a rugby ball from a scrum
and the stocky Geordie midwife caught you neatly
and cried ‘Whoops! She’s come!’

You had a wrinkled jammy head
and spasmy legs like a portly frog’s.
From your belly button a white root waved
that had fed you all the months you’d grown

and ripened in your mother’s womb.
And let me tell you – I’m ashamed –
I forgot your mother completely – she had been
those things to me that one day you’ll discover
in someone else, and think ‘God, this is it!’
– My sweetheart, my warm dear, my red hot lover –

But for those moments, as the doctor
shoved cotton wool up your flat nose
and swabbed your eyes and cleaned your bum
I forgot completely all my life and love
and watched you like a pool of growing light
and whispered to myself ‘She’s come! She’s come!’