HER GRAVITY | This poem witnesses the process of pregnancy through the emotional sphere of image and metaphor. She is one becoming two. This process, as old as ever, puts a woman into a state of amazement to the mysterious rhythms which both her, and her newborn go through naturally and emotionally.
Her pelvis the holder
Her womb the bowl
Her life juices—the soup
flowing through the umbilical cords
Her pelvis is the bowl
Her womb, the soup:
Drink up little cherub!
She walks with the gentlest steps
For she weighs the gravity of life
Between the scales of light and dark:
She's a glowing galaxy
The little bird that curls up inside her
And holds tight on the cord:
Will be with her
As they fly through night roads
Peeling back the blueprints of the stars:
The skin and nerve
Stomach and lung
Muscle and bone
For weeks her body chants unbound secret songs.
Her and her baby are reeds sunk in the river mud
as it splashes and curves around them
whom fastened to the flow: expand closer and closer
inside themselves: as fingers appear
and eyes, the mouth and ears:
the better to hear their beating hearts
as their inner eyes peer between themselves:
they'll never leave their sight
And, when she dilates
When the contractions come but ten minutes apart
With all labored joy and pain
She’ll bring him to the breathing color-filled world!
Placing the baby's gorgeous skin on hers:
They’ll only cease their weeping when they gaze
a thousand endless seconds at what they've become.