Oxygen, 65 parts per hundred.
Add her mother's smiling eyes,
And her father's strong chin.
Carbon, 18 parts per hundred.
The gift of dance,
And an ear for music.
Hydrogen, 10 parts per hundred.
Add her aunt's curly hair,
And her uncle's skillful hands.
Nitrogen, 3 parts per hundred.
The gift of patience,
And a love of animals.
Calcium, 1.5 parts per hundred.
Add her grandma's smooth skin,
And her grandpa's keen vision.
Phosphorus, 1 part per hundred.
The gift of rhyming,
And a sense of humor.
The last part in a hundred?
A bit of this
And a bit of that.
Twenty-three chromosomes,
From each side,
And a pinch of pure magic.
A little random kindness,
And something special,
That is hers alone.
Mix well, in a safe place,
And keep warm, at 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit,
For 42 weeks.
And, when she is ready,
Give her food and water,
Shelter and encouragement,
Rules and guidance,
Attention, and listening,
And all the love you have.
Steve Cavin now writes books and poetry aboard his sailboat in the harbor at Eureka, California. He practices archery, runs meditation retreats in the mountains, and attends an open microphone in the local coffee shop, where he tells stories and reads his poetry.
MUSEPAPER POEM PRIZE #64
* This will be the author’s first work to appear in print. *
NOVEMBER 9, 2022 / MUSEPAPER POEM PRIZE #64 / "FAMILY RECIPE" © 2022 STEVE CAVIN