Pregnant Beauty Revealed

Her dress conforms like water to the curves
of pending birth, of belly, breasts, and hips.
Then I must be the pilot who observes
the wish that barely flows across her lips.
She knows that I have waited for this sign
to which my heart attaches a command.
My will to move, to act, becomes divine
as I reach out to take her holy hand.
Our steps are short, respectful of the gift
of life she bears.  The path is not too long.
And as we crest the rise our spirits lift
together, like the harmony of song.
She sighs at all the beauty in her view.
I watch her there and find I’m sighing too.

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