To an Unborn Child

Storm clouds move in and darken all the house,
    The morning paper on the kitchen table dim,
Where I’ve been reading some reporter’s grouse
    At things already bad, now growing grim.
    Most of the prodigies agree with him.

I rise to light a lamp, and hear the thunder,
    And watch the first drops thudding on the lawn.
Your mother joins me. Here we stand, in wonder,
    Between the hour that marks your life’s first dawn
    And that one, still obscure, we’re counting on.

­—James Matthew Wilson

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

JD Vance States the Obvious About Ordo Amoris

James Orr

We are living, it scarcely needs saying, in unpredictable times. But no one could have imagined that…

Thinking Twice About Re-Enchantment

Peter J. Leithart

Since the Enlightenment and the scientific revolution, the story goes, we’ve lived more and more in a…

The Bible Throughout the Ages

Mark Bauerlein

The latest installment of an ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein. Bruce Gordon joins in…