morning cries

I could hear a baby crying early this morning. It wasn’t near but a distant sound. I could sense when it stopped or shrieked or even continued to annoy it’s neighbors with something we once all knew best. The Buddhists believe that there are significant reasons to why we are born crying. Suffering at its onset and the life comes out with tears into a world of service towards gratitude.
It has been scientifically said that women have a tuned ear to hear a baby crying in the middle of the night and the ability to be woken up by it. Otherwise, would so many of us have been feed at instinct’s need or changed once nature called.

It cried and cried and cried and cried at 8 am. Perhaps a biological clock as we now may know on days when our alarm was not set to 7:15 am because it was a labor day but still we rise.

I felt him move and listened to him breath. I though of the possibility of the baby being ours and the idea of me getting up at night, not a budge by the man. The man. What could I say that has not been said and repeated time and time again?

I thought of the possibility of his hard thing entering my wet and dark hole and conceiving yet another life into this overpopulated, underfeed, and uneducated place. I thought of the possibility of being called Mama or Mom, perhaps even maman… HA!

I couldn’t help but think of the disservice I would be doing to the world by bringing yet another life into it. Remembering the countless times I heard the phrase good seed or pure breed. Because your enemy may think himself a better breed my friend. I could only feel a praise for China and it’s strict and regimented ways for this once in my life. One child, and one child ONLY!