Claustrophobic walls press in,
tightening with
every passing moment;
the room gets smaller
and more confining with
each contraction.
He shoves against the walls
but the walls shove back,
squeezing ... squeezing;
he feels himself being turned;
reluctantly, he allows it;
he has no choice.
Suddenly, the pressure is gone -
gone in blinding light and
a breath of pain;
he voices his displeasure
and hears his Mama's voice
comforting him.
He looks into her eyes;
instant recognition comes
to both of them;
Mama holds the fruit of her labor
in loving, welcoming arms;
her baby son.

(c) 2006, Karla Dorman.