two or so handfuls of weeks, and some new and perfect alchemy of these babes will be earthside. my spine shivers at thoughts of who baby will be, who of generations past she or he will echo. will you have one grandfather's wit? will you have the other's green eyes? mostly, i get lost in wonder at the things, all her or his own, that have been gathered from every stretch of heaven, for all of time. spirit and soul-stuff — things known, things seen, things hoped for — features we can't quite place — the oceans and moons of a person we'll spend the rest of our lives discovering.