Infant

Something carved
Soft and slender.
Something breathes
Slow and even.
We call it ‘something’
Because it is unclear.
But this essence
Aligns with memories we envisage.
Figures opaque, padded silhouettes  
Slouch on the unctuous flow.
Something washes
In glowing gem azure
Then rests on the rim of intellect.
Gently cooing membranes shed
Something lullabies protect.
Something perplexing,
Evoking, forming.
Someone emerging.