A Glance Is A Spark

My mother taught me how babies were formed.
First a man and a woman fall in love, she said.
I imagined that time I fell into a pool
at my cousin Reyna's house and almost drowned.
It sounds painful, I said.
My mother's eyes sagged, but her lips smiled.
It can be, she said.
Then what? I asked.
Well, she said slowly.
Well what?

Her eyes searched for something;
they grabbed onto one of the votives
with which she had dotted the house.
She said, They make a spark.
 
Years later I learned how dangerous
electricity and water were together
and something of fatal passion,
but then her answer awed me
and I could not wait to
ignite a small life into being.