Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
The wind is hymning the trees to readiness

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The wind is hymning the trees, spring gods
sleek in scallop, ovoid leaves. Be,

beloved -- may I call you that, unborn
as you are? Unfurl yourself into today, slide across

its noon, legs and arms a churning X. Bless
the arch of green, the buttress of blue.

Above, a thousand gods' silver smiles rustle;
below, the tender rasp of bark and root

cradles you in its sturdy conscience. Enter
the season here, at its sweet, split center.

Ease yourself into the port of breath,
as the wind hymns the trees.

Danielle Lapidoth lives with her husband and three children, ages 4, 2 and three months, in Zurich, Switzerland. There she runs an editing business, teaches English, and writes poetry, flash fiction, and essays while her family sits on her lap or sleeps. She has had work published at Flash Quake, Apple Valley Review, Lily Lit Review, Barnwood, Shit Creek Review, Midstream, The Lyric, Ellery Queen, and Mamaphonic.

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