Laura Jan Shore Biography

The babies have come
splashing into warm pools.
Water glances off
fat cheeks, smoothes
downy skulls.
Flutter kicks
propel them,
while inside each cell
of flesh and bone,
fluid dances.
Each droplet holds memory,
gift of belonging.
Jubilant babies pout their lips,
blow bubbles,
by fear.

The babies have come
riding solar flares
into the depths
to illuminate our darkest places.
Their presence
our belief in history.
All the old stories
must be washed away
to clear space
for astonishment.

The babies have come
from another shore
so slippery with blessing,
no shame can stick.
They are a sprinkle of giggles
to refresh
a thirsty world.
They are the flood
of the prophesies.

The babies have come
and unless faith
can dissolve our stony habits,
it is time for us to go.