Another

A signal of action,
a sign from inside.
Felt ever so slightly,
under hand's gentle glide.

Across bare flesh,
a body of creation.
The pleasure of your skin,
I shared with no one.

But another comes,
another will touch.
Will feel the joy,
of your hand's loving clutch.

Will feel your lips,
will taste your breasts.
Be held to the same skin,
which I caressed.

For so long,
only two to share.
A mutual love,
beyond compare.

But another comes,
another will see.
The love in your eyes,
that was for only me.

Will see your smile,
will hear your sigh.
Your voice that I,
am often soothed by.

Will soothe another,
will fill a soul.
With the very thing,
that keeps me whole.

But I will not fall,
I know will remain.
The things I felt,
only slightly changed.

I see in your eyes,
a certain reassurance.
You kiss,
my lips of acceptance.

This poem has a bit of a mystery to it, and if you could not figure it out, then here's the answer.

Basically, the situation is a man and his wife are in the third trimester of her first pregnancy.
It was an unplanned pregnancy, and the husband was not entirely pleased by it, though he would never actually oppose it.
During a moment of sitting with her, he has his hand on her stomach, and he feels the baby moving.
He spends some minutes like this, thinking about things, and then he changes his attitude about it.

I have grown to think of this as a special kind of Mother's Day poem.