perfection

I remember, then
when your eyes were closed

how I caught
a small new world
catapulting from inside your body
inches
from the ground

how brave, how blessed
was that dusty
snow-speckled floor
that held you softly

and the haphazard canopy of sticks
that kept us
from the cruel stars

I remember, still
when your eyes were closed
I searched in vain
for clean straw

setting the cows, finally
to lick the blood away
still damp on your legs

and later
in the gathering snow
and stillness
my hands
told me

that they had touched
perfection
in that shining form

as it unfolded out of you
radiant in flesh,
that night
and forever

but also
the same perfection
shone
in the blood-streaked
trampled soil

on which we lay