He comes to know who he is
with the coos from his mother's
Out of the dark chaos within
he gives her back his first small
These are the fingers that hold
a thumb tight. These are his toes
and these his eyes, and this is
The words of a loving human
are what, to him, is certain.
They determine from outside
who he is. They meet his stirring
sensations and give them form.
He becomes aware of himself
as something. He sits with his
and holds his head up. He learns
an old hand holding a bottle
can almost be touched like a breast.
But from within himself, without
some loving other, he could never
dream that his value is a gift.
It's Mother's kisses that give him
They tell him that these are his
and he giggles delight, soft and
just to wiggle them back in return.