I have seen them, gravid
& walking with the honey heaviness
of mothers round as plums,
ripe & stretched over fullness
& eager to meet what kicks
beneath their hands
they have felt fluttering
in the domes of their bellies,
laughed with those turns
& learned new heartbeats
threading under their own,
a welcome otherness
but here, underneath scars
that tethered us
to our own mothers
a threat blooms alongside hope
this close to life death happens. obscene
how bodies break & empty easy as eggs
even in their fruiting
life is cheap
they say & it must be
if it spends so casually
each lost heartbeat
adds up
counted in pennies
& we keep adding
shiny words explaining loss:
religion, cultural context,
mismanagement
how do you tabulate tears
in actuarial tables
i have numbered the bones
ac-
count-
ability
measured in shoulder shrugs
& head shakes
while a woman
who cradled life
in the bowl of her pelvis
bleeds out
drop by drop
slower than tears
Susan Daniels Poetry 
This has left me speechless! How so painfully well you capture the pains and waste of maternal and child mortalities. (Incidentally, my nephew’s wife was buried yesterday! The baby boy lives on.)
Oh, Noel–this was written for her, for you and your family. The pain and waste of lives is staggering. I am so glad the baby lives–a double loss would have been unbearable. Ndo.
I am so sorry for your loss, Noel. I pray that the baby will be a great consolation to you all.
Beautifully poignant, and Noel, so sorry to hear about your loss.
Thank you, David. It is unbelievable, the numbers of women and children who die in the process of labor and delivery. Preventable and so, so sad.
Beautiful use of language as usual (I must ask you sometimes about ampersands…) :
“bleeds out
drop by drop
slower than tears”
is especially fine. A poem of two halves, both poignant. Thanks again Susan.
Thank you, Paul. The ampersands are not a big deal–they carry over from when I used to write out everything longhand on paper before typing it, and they were my way to keep up with my muse 😉
Very powerful and heartfelt.
Thank you, Leo!
Incredible writing, simply breathtaking in its power.
Mama, thank you. This is becoming a subject close to my heart.
You are so right – there is a fear behind the joy – from the fragility. I have stood over tiny caskets and the grief is like a second child, swelling the belly, heavy and unnameable, invisible yet immense.
A really striking piece Susan.
Mike, thank you. What you have to say here about the loss/grief over a little one just knocked me to my knees. The force of that heartbreak must be impossible to convey, and incredibly challenging to move past (if we ever do).
It is so very hard, because the death creates an indelible anniversary – they would have been this age, they may have done this… The unknowability of who they may have become creates an infinity of possible losses.
I think that there is so much potential in a human life, that when it is denied it somehow must remain. Like they say in physics – energy cannot be destroyed, only change forms – so the potential energy of a life becomes an energy of grief that lasts for as long as memory.
Oh, my, Mike. You are right. I am thinking of haunting today as a theme and that is what you describe here–being haunted by a potential unrealized.
That’s exactly it. When a known is lost the cost is understood and thus manageable. When an unknown is denied being known, what could have been is so uncertain that it gains a strange power.
Somehow I feel there is a poem being born in these comments.
That is my sense too, Mike, and you are the man to write it.
You are so right – there is a fear behind the joy
A fragility
I have stood over tiny caskets
the grief a second child
swelling the belly
heavy and unnameable
The death creates
An indelible anniversary
They would have been
They may have done
Unknowable
They may have become
An infinity of possible losses.
The potential in a human life
Denied
Must remain
Energy cannot be destroyed
Only change
The potential of a life becomes
An energy of grief
that lasts as long
as memory.
Such strength in sorrow, such beauty out of loss that I wish you had not known enough of to create this.
It’s kind of messed me up in a wet eyed way! But we must live both sides of the coin when we spend out time 🙂 I’m so glad this odd burst happened.
I am glad it did too, but so sorry it brought out pain.
XX
back at you…
Actually – lose the first verse and I think it’s there.
Perfect without that first verse.
What a strange event. Have posted it as a poem. Thank you – we seem to have shared a peculiar labour.
Yes, we did. Beautiful, Mike.
So complex in one way, so simple in another, a challenge to forces that strip away the essence of humanity and digitise the remainder.
Wisdom comes when we know the capabilities of each and every tool, when to utilise one, or let it rest. Too often we run with what impresses, exalt it to the detriment of what truly matters. Life is only cheap in the world where artificiality reigns supreme.
True points, Nelle, and strong ones. We need to reprioritize what we value, globally.
So poignant, Susan, heart wrenching words.
Celestine, thank you. This was a hard one to write.
I like the fragility and your soulful rendering. xo
Deb, thank you. Sad subject for me…
Reblogged this on FEATHERS PROJECT and commented:
To all women who have lost their babies to avoidable circumstances at childbirth. Deep and lucid poetry from Susan L. Daniels.
Reblogged this on visionvoiceandviews and commented:
We must all join the fight against Maternal and Infant Mortalities. Susan’s poem is one more voice calling for joined up action.
Mournful without cliche. Sad, yet wonderful. Well done.
Thank you so much.