Oh God, come any other way,

but not as a child.

Come in a space ship

so we can claim you as an alien,

as a figment of our imagination.

Wash up on earth’s shore

so we can claim you as a castaway

an unknown, scraggly and salt soaked.

Walk into town as a vagabond

so we can look and call authorities

to distance us.

Stand by the side of the road

so we can decide if your thumb up

is necessary for us to stop.

But please don’t come as a baby.

Don’t come and coo and cry

and take our breath away.

Don’t come as we did,

dependant and humble

and wrapped up tight.

Just don’t, don’t be so vulnerable

as a wonder from a womb

bathed in the liquid of humanity.

Don’t come as a child, please.

For then we would need to

hold you in our…