When Solomon was born, birds came soaring,
waddling, swimming, flapping around the air.
They cheeped and honked to celebrate the day;
a few chipped in to give him a layette—
eiderdown, eggs, and less-appetizing things.
Ad hoc solidarity to honor
David’s gilt- and purple-bundled heir:
pterosaur, canary, cassowary,
hummingbirds flanked by a pair of penguins sweating
fishily—everyone who could fly was there.
They waited—jostled—shoved at the nursery door—
brawled, guano flying; everywhere
blood, owl pellets, drifts of white duvet,
gamboge splots of yolk on the baby’s blanket.
All they had in common was their wings.
—Deborah Warren
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Equipping the Church for the IVF Era
When Anna, a pianist at her local church, began to show the unmistakable signs of pregnancy, her…
The Fourth Watch
In this episode, James F. Keating joins R. R. Reno on The Editor’s Desk to talk about…
Christianity Is Not a Tool
On today’s episode, writer Kelly Chapman joins Virginia and Germán. According to the discourse, it’s fashionable to…
