Today I want to share with you all a very special poem. I wrote this poem for my first son, Ernest Bhabor II, in whom I am well pleased; just before he was born.
WAITING
Nine months
Two hundred and seventy days
Two thirds of a year
We wait patiently.
We await the day
We await the divine moment
We await the shrill cry
We await the arrival
We wait earnestly.
Expectations
Excitement
Apprehension
A feeling of euphoria
A feeling of joy lurk around the corner waiting to break loose
We wait nervously.
A bright cleansing
A hymnal
A celebration of life is only a heartbeat away
We wait expectantly.
The harps
The drums
The cymbals
The flutes adorn every corner
Sweet fragrances scent the air
Stacked boxes of cigars form a mighty hill
We wait wide eyed.
We wait for the moment
We wait breathlessly for our blessing
We wait for our bundle of joy.
By Ernest Bhabor
For Ernest Bhabor II
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