A poem for my daughter:

The Holiday, or
My favorite poem

“...the hallway/ Was where we learned to celebrate”

When I found out we were expecting 
I knew then
I am everything
And nothing.

The feeling: unfamiliar.
At the same time, it had

Been said
Before the Bible, Gilgamesh knew
Before Gilgamesh, humans knew.

They were gods.
They survived the flood.
Most of us do. I always thought

I didn’t have the answer.
If we are quiet -
We do.

Little Oak I promise:
You will know.

A friend and a poet told me that
You will be all right -
When you are alone. I knew.

His sister asked what
I was reading on
The plane to Paris. It was

The line
Of a contemporary 
Poet and I dreamt
Of giving you your name. I dreamt 
Of talking with the trees.

I was twenty-three
When that plane landed
And as I walked the streets 
Of Jordaan,

I knew 

The quiet 
That exists 
Inside a mother’s belly.

That fall
I met your father, and

On a January afternoon,
Truly, it all made sense.

Little Oak, remember:

The silence exists within -
You are the fire and
The flower. You are
The dawn rain.

They are a part of you.

This I know 
For sure. I’ve always known 
For sure. I’ve always known 
You.

…

I remember: my birthday,
Watching the trees,

Knowing -
I believed in something.

I remember: your great-grandpa’s s funeral,
Walking with the trees and your father,

Knowing -
You were
Our Oak.
Our Ayla,

I hope
You feel it all 
And still know
Your way

Home.

Celebrate you.
Celebrate everything.

…

My favorite holiday.
The most beautiful poem.