A thought-provoking, poetic look at the wonder that is human reproduction.

I am constantly amazed at the world
around me. Take human reproduction.
The sex act involves a boy and a girl,
sometimes causing the pregnant condition.

Somewhat awkward, rather ridiculous
positions are used so that his sperm meets
her egg. Success requires meticulous
needs be met; hence there are frequent repeats.

She’s pregnant! Now her body undergoes
astounding changes; imagine the miracle
of a baby growing. Her belly shows
progress, bigger bulging as chronicle.

Hormones surge; emotions roller-coaster.
Finally it’s time. An eight-pound infant
must escape to make dad a proud boaster.
The small opening means birth isn’t instant.

The poor dad frequently must pace for hours
until the baby emerges. Count the toes;
count the fingers, for good health empowers
the infant’s future success as it grows.

Each baby is a true wonder – so small,
yet destined to soon become an adult,
a human hybrid determined by all
the parental genes mixed; it’s the result.

Anyone who’s ever held their baby,
looked closely at its tiny hands and feet,
watched it grow and learn as a child, may be
expected to be filled with wonder complete.

(If you’re not overcome with awe untold
holding your baby, you lack a poet’s soul.)