"These men wrestle angels. Each now sits on / an enormous wing waiting for the winds to rise"
For me, it always comes back to labour. For, in labour, we wrestle angels. We struggle to blend reality with expectation. We skim the ecstatic knife edge between pleasure and pain. We emerge, changed utterly.
Thanks to Deb, Elaine, Sheena and Betty - the four midwives who helped me wrestle the angels