A poem written for four month old Nera.

You sprang so wise from the womb

it seems

your dark eyes look so solemnly

upon the world.

Your eyes are blue like the sea’s depths

in mid-ocean, depths of my swimming dreams

you swam inside me,

dreaming yourself, as a fish,

as a kicking child, as a girl –

as a girl I didn’t yet know,

the sea-blue girl who pushed her way out,

did not cry out at birth,

only called out – ‘I am here’ –

brought herself upon the earth to live,

out of the salty sea of blood,

my waters,

out of my heart’s darkness,

to mid-June light,

the dry city air –

the century’s final year –

did you choose, did you make yourself?

– or was it us, mother and father –

joining you up into something more than two,

someone,

born with a will into the world,

born unwillingly,

with a purpose – to live –

to shout for living –

to strain all your little body to life,

to do your best,

learning,

learning,

my dark-haired daughter,

my sea-girl,

you are here now,

here, and never will be undone,

never unborn –

your life will go on forever.

Prague 22.10.99