Blue Circles
For my son
I try hard to remember
when I first noticed
the furrow appear
on your once smooth brow,
and your brown calf eyes
blink with confusion.
Or maybe I'm looking
through blind eyes.
And if my sight was restored,
I would see the blue circles
that surrounded you,
how you spiralled
to the pit of despair,
to a dark place,
a labyrinth of fear
and unanswered questions.
Where you struggled
to discover truth,
and self,
and harmony.
At last,I can see clearly
how you've fought your own way
along the birth canal,
to emerge and gulp fresh air.
You are born at last
and I rejoice;
I want to embrace you,
my son.
© Christine Magee
