At Birth/ A poem by Mike O'Connell

At birth,
mother and child
are connected by the moon,
starlight,
and particles shift
to accommodate their love
and one more mouth to feed.
A cuddle here,
a gurgle there;
a small life cast away
from the certainty
of the womb.
Hold it up!
Show it to the moon!
Hide it from
the wild world!
Give it toys
and make it play.
Give it knowledge
so it will say,
“I am!”
Keep it warm
and cool,
and safe.

i,
I know why
the babies cry!
So the wolves will
know
which way to go....

A Halloween Type Poem

Nightmare Abound

Nightmares abound
in sleepless sleep.
There are black-hooded phantoms
with souls to reap.

Things chase us and catch us
and toss us about
while we cringe and hide,
too frightened to shout.

The red eyes of demons
pulse and glare,
as great thumps and growls
come from under the stairs.

Photophosphene fed fires
burn through the night
while we are stiff and frozen,
too fearful to fight.

Dawn does limp forward,
timid and weak;
taunts us and mocks us,
steals the respite we seek.

But don’t be afraid
when you bed tonight,
for it is not very often
one dies from fright.

Yes,
nightmares abound
in sleepless sleep,
for there are black-hooded phantoms,
with souls to reap.

But, smile at the demons!
Toss them a dream!
They may appear evil
but there’s no need to scream.

They may appear fearsome,
this much may be true,
but if look very close,
those phantoms are you!
Boo!
(nighty night!)

(By Mike O’Connell)