Perfect Number

There is a waiting child,
Half of you, half of me,
The shell curve of my ear,
The colour of your hair,
My steel, your softness,
Unbending tenderness,

My mischief in his eyes,
Your blush upon his cheek,
He'll have the best of both
Of us, and yet not us,
Someone greater than
Simply one plus one,

Would you deny this
Perfect number to be born?
Then know that denying
Our love equals this,
And so many more growing
Touches that we'll miss.

All the Christmases
That'll never exist,
No tree to trim
As we teach him
The best in humanity,
Never to argue how much

To leave from the tooth fairy,
While we watch him sleeping.
If you accept the love
That has made a home in us,
You'll see what we'll sow
From our joining spring,

You'll plant in him seeds
Of memory to help him grow,
You'll show him how
Damp brown earth invites
New roots and tell him
The names of flowers,

And seated upon my shoulders,
I'll give him a mind full
Of faraway secrets
And fantastic stories,
Armour him with facts and duties
Against life's rough push and pull,

I'll become a real boy again,
And you'll be the mother of two,
We'll explain the value
Of men and women and truth,
Never to run away from our hugs,
To know his little heart is loved,

When he falls as he will do,
You'll bandage his grazed knees,
And as our faces soften with time,
His children will pull
At your hands to tell them
The names of flowers too.

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