Nursing my son on an August afternoon

Christian Century, August 14, 2002 by Valerie Weaver-Zercher

Nursing my son on an
August afternoon

   The leaves outside are moving
   in the light. Here, on the bed,
   my son pulls away from my breast
   and pivots toward the leaves,
   those green leaves, that flicker
   as the hottest fire.

   His body is completely still, tilting
   toward the window and all that stirs
   and flames. He forgets his previous
   hunger, his previous loves. Light
   and leaves and wind are enough
   for anyone to live on.

   My milk stream splashes his cheek,
   then falls onto the sheets. I am full
   of so much need, here, on this afternoon
   when summer runs seamlessly
   into autumn, when home meets
   departure in the same way--

   Until he turns from his leafy dream
   to that holy business of eating,
   drinking; until that shining day

   when he and I and we
   shall be filled.