Sounds of Existence

This morning, the sound of new lungs

brought me down to the nursery room.

When I reached the "locked and secured"

ward door label, I was stopped by a coo.

Among the cradles there squirmed a child

observing the kaleidoscope world turning

about them with bright, glassy eyes—stout,

puffy limbs testing their motion. I snuck a

gloved finger into New Baby's palm and

couldn't place the emotion as small little

fingers curled around mine. “It's okay,”

I promised, our worlds intertwined as I

lingered and rocked the arm of this person,

back and forth in a sort of soothing assertion.

I wondered in silence at their unwritten story,

a few pages into life's whole inventory, while I

listened for more of the sounds of existence

coming only to those who would dare give

a listen. Like this child before me gazing

about, with new lungs puffing softly...

In and out.

Claire Turgeon is an alumnus at the UTCOMLS.

The Disappearing Wives of Henry VIII and the Ten Thousand Men of Maurice Maeterlinck