Birthday

Birthday

Every year on my birthday
I catch myself wondering for a moment where I was at this time
the day I was born
the image that always comes to mind
is looking up the young woman who is my mother
registering only the absolute rightness of the cradle formed by her arms
and caring only that she kept cooing to me
maybe my brother is there, not yet comprehending
what exactly my existence means
but excited for it nonetheless
perhaps my grandparents are there as well
I guess I like to think of those small hours
where I was the most important being on earth
and I had no understanding of it
and I wonder what my mother saw when she looked at me
beyond my tiny body
did she try to imagine as the woman I might be?
as the two little cells I once was?
Did she try to guess the color of my hair?
Or did she just see the two blue eyes
staring up at her through the pink blanket?