Oh, it’s a freaky feeling to post on someone else’s blog. Let me pause a moment, and look around. Take a breath. Relax. Ahh. Not so bad, really.
I am fascinated by the idea of putting things out to an unknown universe. A bit apprehensive, but that will pass. It always does.
I live in Santa Cruz, CA. I don’t know if most of the readers of this blog are in Africa, as is the blog owner, or if you are Americans, or scattered all around. I like the fact I don’t know you. An audience of mysterious peers. As though something I wrote was actually published.
Last night for the dark moon, a gathering of women celebrated with a simple ritual. We were asked to bring a creative piece on the topic of women’s womb space. I wrote this poem.
When you say the womb
I think dark and wet and close
holding my own arms around me
floating and held by everything that is
When you say emerge
I feel a sudden pain
but without resistance I slide forth
to stand, dripping,
on the solid ground of some new existence
born from the darkness
that loved me
into the day and night of this world
from some depth within me
my own life
birthing the sinews and bone of my desire
living a dream of my own