Lytle Creek, CA. Photo by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

camped on the frontier

of my life, pregnant with the future

I am comforted by you

star fixed in my sky

think of your courage

a knife being born in your belly

you fear a painful birth

 

for the world does not yet contain

the contours of our sharp new selves

we had known this behind our minds

for years when over coffee one quiet dawn

we discussed the journeys that we must make

each to create a world that can receive us

thru new birth canals that will not strangle

the erupting self, nor rupture the body in birth

 

I have come past outposts warning

not to forsake a history written

in advance – into light that scrapes

my eyes clear of learned cataracts

seeking fresh eyes that can see new

bone forming in flesh

but never suspending my gravity

for another’s, for tho clumsy

with my weight, I must trust it

always watching for those who thrust

into the light

at the same deep angle

 

their refractions echoing

in the well of the future

forming constellations

to chart our depth by

 

Cynthia Cook, New York City (published in WOMANSPIRIT March 1980)

Shared by Glenys Livingstone, Ph.D.