From the Old Mother

For a long time my world-womb was spacious
and I flew.
The world felt me as no more than a flutter.

But slowly the constriction closed in until
I could no more than suck my thumb.

I was a little afraid,
having been born before.

When my world-womb bent toward my expulsion
I was pushed, astonished, out – into the new world again.

The air is cold and frightful.
I blink in the empty, echoing space.
People around me are cheerful,
but as separate as galaxies.

 

 

4 thoughts on “From the Old Mother

  1. Wonderful in the extreme, B! “As separate as galaxies” speaks to me at the very core of my being. (Amateur astronomer for over 60 years and ex-staff member Lowell Observatory — Flagstaff, Arizona)
    This one rocks! — Ron —

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