In the Next Room

in the next room my children sleep
I hear them grow in the dark,
hearts ticking like clocks;
teeth erupting like volcanoes
teeth loosening like rip fruit;
cell by cell,
the muscles stretch
the bones lengthen,
a silent internal construction
a reservoir of growth
dreams bursting like dams

they grow in the night-
loaves of bread slowly rising with sweet smelling yeast;
and just the sound of their breaths in the dark
is a feast.