Parturition

She becomes the tide

Ebbing and flowing

Slow-moving ripples

That without warning

Give over to violent, crashing surf 

She rolls with each wave

Never stopping

Only moving

Surging

Then floating

And then with the last tempest

A channel opens

Water rushes

Waves crash

A final swell comes with great effort

And then genesis

The offering wriggles on her chest

Her daughter

The tide recedes

And Love remains.