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Tenacity of Lace

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Musings #1

IN TRANSITION

 

Imagine the labored breathing, the urge to push,

contractions that come harder, faster.  Trembling,

 

hot and cold, legs shaking.  The midwife

whispering, the baby is almost here.

 

I come to know the cut of a sterile knife

when this body did no more than obey

 

a silent wish to hold him close to the bone,

when he was early ready to enter the world.

 

Awakened from a dream to the possibility

of something simply different,

 

readying for the radical.

After all, everyone and everything moves on,

 

rotating and emerging.  What is in turns out.

The severed cord now a knot in the belly.

 

Hold this bundle.  

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