December Birthdays
by Hannah K
The sun is due each morning
but we were more like rain.
Our mothers crossed the foggy threshold of November
with steadfast smiles while we still floated
in the void of being and not yet being
more akin to steam than condensation
or pinecones than towering trees.
Into December, a fresh breath
called our names, and so we came
by the same river as our king
amid twinkling tinsel and red bayonet of grownup games
their hearts pulled up short until we wept.
We wept to see Orion’s bow
unsure what reckless callings it foretold
so young, how could we know the morning star had shone?
Our mothers held us close against the cold.
Hannah K is halfway grown up and enjoys writing fiction, wrangling kids, and generally being alive.
Artwork: Moonlight on the River, Lowell Birge Harrison, 1919
Oh Hannah, this is so absolutely beautiful.
Wow, Hannah. The way you wove imagery n word choice. Stunning.
Your pre-birth imagery gorgeously evolves into the emergence of life for you of cosmic proportions. The flow is both personal and galactic. You have created a wonderful and insightful piece. Keep up the good work!
An absolutely stunning December poem.
“we came by the same river as our king.”
The mystery of the Incarnation. And yet the cold is still piercing.