there is always a doula
in a timeless room
whether it be a hand
a song or a silence
it was lightless there
we did not need the light
i watched you rise
from the tepid bathwater
the way a fist rises
out of a heavy crowd
gravity met you rising
& sang you into a sandstorm
where did you go
disappearing right before me
& then returned a bird
draped in rebozo wings
stitches of abuelas woven
into the azul siempre
earth turning like
the very first wheel
your sacred sound found
the bottom of your well
the horizon where it seemed
you had been forming a sun
heart red
& howling
the sacred sound
you formed in his core
you rested gently
as you held our child
new light in a new world
all in time with itself
Brice Maiurro is a poet from Lakewood, Colorado. He is the Editor-in-Chief of South Broadway Press. He has authored four collections of poetry, including The Heart is an Undertaker Bee, published by Middle Creek, a publisher focused on ecologically-informed works. His work has been published by or is forthcoming with West Trade Review, South Florida Poetry Journal, and Planted Journal.