Prenatal Horoscope I light a candle in my sacred space and watch the trembling flame that bends and sways above the earthen jar in which it burns. I hope it warms and brightens the moist dark passageway of birth, the throbbing walls encircling the first, the most primitive canal. I sigh a prayer, a breath, a spirit-wind across the miles, calling, urging infant boy or girl to frolic in the amniotic sea, to float, to glide, to ride the crescent waves of push and pain.
Safe harbor waits and eager arms to catch and tie the cord around their hearts. Her breast will be your berth, his chest your pier. The weight of love will hold you fast but leave you free, as anchors bedded deep allow a ship to weather any sea. . . . . . Just now the maiden voyage ends and Sarah rests until the next begins. I snuff the candle with a kiss.