The Born
She came in from the Crowded Night-
flecks of light and flecks of dark-
on her clothing shimmering
Around her swirled Half-Meanings,
Inconsistencies, Beauty Lights
and Pale Remembrances.
Eyes aglow
her silvery voice
sang of Love and Loneliness
Peace and War
Birthing Seeds,
things human and not
pretty and not
dead and alive.
More came to assemble before her-
a crowd of the Inspired and the Expired
the In-Betweeners
the Isolates and the Amongers
The Initiates and the Tired
The Baby Faces and the Aged
The Energetic and the Lazy
the Was Ones, the Is Ones
and those lined up waiting for life to begin.
She spoke:
'For all,
you and I
for We
begin in the Dark Sea Womb
slosh in our dingy boat
hearing breathing sounds;
float in Nurture Fluid
jostle on Motherly Seas
looking for the Birth Shore;
looking for Land-Fall
that Path-Way to Getting Born
and Tsunami- Like
we are contracted first and then
thrust upside down and out
pushed into unfamiliar light
hearing for the first time
the unmuffled human voice,
feeling hands which reach,
pull, ply and poke
slipping us into the Born World
from the Unborn One
and some of us cry.
[...] Read more
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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