Birth

Today’s poem for NaPoWriMo.

Birthdays are, for me, remembering mothers. They are the star of the day, are they not? Going through that climactic episode after 9 months of carrying and carrying and more carrying. I have a cousin who every year travels to spend his birthday with his mother. He said, she is the reason he has a birthday, so she’s the best person to celebrate it with. I agree.

This being a woman

.

This being a woman
is a holding back

words caught in the throat
pebbles, rocks, boulders,
but isn’t it the stones
that make the river sing?

This being a woman
is a flowing around

a liquid grace,
a sinuous tenacity,
what obstacle has ever
stopped a river in flow?

This being a woman
is a relearning

no matter how much
the world breaks you,
were you not always
unbreakable and whole?

This being a woman
is a discovering

amidst a world that
denies you your dignity,
finding a world inner,
pure, precious, powerful.

This being a woman
is always about love

you may love one
or may love many,
but most of all
you must love your self

~~~