This is a really nasty one. The Ai is a Persian monster, somehow both invisible and red, who preys on women in labour.
*Content warning for the things that can go wrong with a birth.
Do not let her labour alone.
Go to her, and keep all the lamps burning
Take precautions. Put iron round the bed.
Sing your prayers, and perhaps I will spare her.
Because I am the fear before birth
I’m that thought: “What if something goes wrong?”
I’m the stain on your anticipation
I am Ai. And I’ll take what I want to.
And perhaps I’ll attack from within:
Take the mother and baby together,
Or perhaps I will wait for the birth:
Let her taste of her joy, and then take it.
You can’t stop me. I’ll do what I please.
But perhaps, just perhaps, you’ll be lucky –
You’ll discourage me. Well, it’s worth trying!
So perform all your sweet little rituals.
And do not let her labour alone.
Go to her, and keep all the lamps burning
Take precautions. Put iron round the bed.
Sing your prayers, and perhaps I will spare her.
Perhaps Ai will not.
Tom Juniper Poetry 