the midwife’s brow frowned,
the labor was not going well
the first time mother
was holding back instead of pushing through

the midwife called for the father in the next room
beckoning his violin too
wooing him to play his cherished jig;
like the swallow-tailed birds must sing each day into being
so too this father would sing his daughter into this world

the man with cooing melody and adept fingers
looked into the eyes of his beloved
beginning with a calming cadence of string
that lulled her back into the rhythm of her body
rolling waves not of pain but of covenant

a quicker step, a crescendo
husband and wife in unison now
a dance similar to the night this child was begotten
and mother and father were first revealed

the midwife hummed,
background music in a scene already filled with song
tapping toes
to the echos of a hollow violin body
until the echos of a hollow room
are filled with the newest song
of a girl child
who sings a jig and taps a lyric never known before
with barely a wingbeat;
this day is beginning