An Ode to the Pregnant Poetess by Chana Mason
You’re not a bulky, chunky butterball who’s let her self go to the whims of self indulgence.
Nor a whale-like, distended, jelly-belly of unattractiveness.
Not pot bellied, overweight, round around the edges.
Not swollen, stout, roly poly. Not fat and all that.
You are a cocoon within which life blooms
An oasis, where blossom fingers and toes
and a pumping heart flow
life blood into sinews and bones
whispering for them to grow
You’re a spectacle, a miracle
a walking embodiment of Nes Gadol Haya Po.
A great miracle happened here.
The creation of a whole new world
is happening inside of you
For every man is a world,
brings more love into the world,
can change the world
in ways unfathomable
when just a fetus in the womb.
You’re expectant with the most melodic sonnet to the One Above
You’re bulging with a prolific testament to the Unity of Love
You are a testament to the Creator of All Creation.
Your hips and thighs, your puffy cheeks and glowing eyes, the not so sleek way you hobble across the kitchen floor are all a Nes.
A sign for all to see.
Nes Gadol Haya Po.
From nothing comes something.
And if not for your Grandeur
We, in our shortsightedness, might miss
The hand of God in our midst