Welcome
Eyes, fingertips, tongues
form one from two.
Yield three.
You.
Snowflake fingerprints,
tiny palms creased with foreknowledge,
DNA whirling proteins
into the plot of a new story.
Despite vast mathematical improbabilities
here you are.
Your mother’s hundred thousand eggs
your father’s five trillion sperm,
a one-in-five-hundred-million-million-million
chance of your existence.
Our gladness is incalculable.
Laura Grace Weldon
Find more poetry in my collection, Tending.
This poem and the accompanying pictures make a bad-feeling night in this mother’s life just a little less rueful. Thank you.
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I am very glad to hear that.
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Lovely! Clever!
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