Tuesday, October 8, 2013

On Being Born - wordle 129

When the gentle, constant massage
of many months, changes,
becomes stronger
and more urgent,
and the nest,
this watery home
becomes too small,
this being, ripe and ready,
takes the chance,
the journey,
through that secret passage.
So clever, it knows the way.
With hands crossed and head down
it travels,
swept by muscles,
into the light.
The stars circle above
as s/he is born
and, shorn from that rope of flesh,
blinking, full of love,
one becomes two.

(Chance,blinked, hand, saw, swept, stars, flesh, ripe, secret, clever, basket, nest)

And here's a sideways view of how I began to put words together.


  1. How I wish I could remember the feeling of being part of then becoming independent a separate entity. I wonder whether that first cry we make is one of joy or of terror!