Poetry Wednesday

This is the poem "Otherwise" by Jane Kenyon:

I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.

At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

Jane Kenyon was one of the first poets I read when I started to like poetry. Her poems are often simple and memorable. She died of cancer, and this poem, I think, speaks to her battle with her disease, but it is also bigger than that.

I've always liked this poem, yet I've always been a bit perplexed by its simplicity. Today, though, as I nursed, sang to, and rocked Amelia, as I changed her diaper and nursed, sang and rocked again, I had its refrain in my head. I felt like I came to a new understanding of the poem.

These days of babytending are bittersweet: difficult, perplexing, but also filled with odd moments of surprise, delight, and joy. The time since Amelia was born has had the odd quality of seeming to pass both very slowly and incredible quickly. She will be one month old tomorrow. One day it will be otherwise.