Womb Song

In menstrual flow: a yolk, an embryo,

held in my palm. I held my breath:

curled question, broken hope,

my tears of awe baptizing your death.

Moon in unforeseen eclipse,

life-blood rhythmic in its spilling.

Only my sisters know this vertigo

of sudden emptying, sudden filling!

Child of melody, new in each motion,

child of grace,

you were conceived into the emptiness

of the lost child’s lost space,

every dream taking another’s place.

Bride of chance, in love with choice,

listen to the inner voice!

Out of this interrupted dance,

rebirth your freedom; make joy true;

affirm the courage to be new!

________________________________

I who love

can feel the proper shape of love.

Having given of my body in joy,

flowing with growth,

with birth, with pain,

flowing with milk, with age,

I know when to say ‘no.’

I know what is mine to give

and what is not. And with

my own worth measured by my love,

I know what is mine to take.

My vibrant impulse always

must say ‘yes’ to life;

and ‘yes to life’

to me means ‘yes’ to choice.

Choice is a path

of beauty bittersweet

with inner necessities

not at all mechanical.

I can choose death

in the service of greater life.

To open to the needs

of a wide world of chaos

means to accept cruel wounds

that only love can heal.

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018