She appeared to me in a dream as if I had walked in and disturbed her meditation, but there was no room of which to speak, and no icon to adore; only she who was seated in a sort of butterfly pose – legs crossed, back straight, shoulders at perfect ease. Her hands however rested on her belly which boasted its blossom, ready to burst, and a serene quiet pride crept across her gentle eyes and smile.

The fragile creature within her womb was fully visible like looking through an oval window. I dared not move closer or cause too much noise in case I woke him. He was as round as his cradle and occasionally twitched in his sleep, now and again bringing his chubby little thumb further into his mouth, suckling.

His pose mirrored his mother’s as he floated upside down, his eyes closed to the world.

All too soon they would be opened.