Newborn Ear

 

My first son lies with one ear up

It is curved and small and close to his head.

No one will ever tease you about those, Son.

Son with a perfect ear.

 

He lies with his fist made, his baby-strong hand,

And it thrashes out

And hits his own surprised face.

Crying at the cruelty of the world, he never knows

His own fist in his own face.

But he can hear his crying

And crying from the next crib.

 

That’s our humanity, my small one.

We lash out in ignorance, striking what’s nearest.

It’s the curse, my baby.

The fist is the curse

While the blessing from God is

Hearing the cry,

From the next crib,

With your perfect ear.

 

            - Nancy Kay, 1987