Color / Birth / Rhythm

Color of morning
Color of waking
Warmth amongst the slight chill
of sunlight fading into being

Remember the place
from before you were born
Return to this endless home
From birth to life
to where we return
Remember the place
from before you were born

Listen to the heartbeat
Calm and measured
Rhythm of life
Simple

Men of No Country

We have no choice into what nation we are born,
what time in history we come into, and who our parents
are. We have no choice if we are born into a time of
peace or war. We have no choice if we are born with
many material advantages or none. We are not responsible
for the past glories of our nation of origin. We are only
responsible for our actions towards ourselves and to others.
There have always been and will always be leaders who
do not speak for the people but rather, speak out in ways
that harm many of those whom they allegedly protect.
Human history is littered with tiny men who have desired
to be loved and acclaimed by the rightness of their vision
but whose vision was always fundamentally flawed.
Better people than me have summed things up in this way:
"All origins are accidental." - Fugazi

Birth

A child being born
A woman screaming
Not merely woman
but Mother as well
Blood and pain
Life emerging
through this
Always like this

second birth

What stirs
What awakens
What dares show it's face
to the dawning day
This self I know
aches for another birth
Renewed heart and promise
Dry the water on my body
Breathing deep again
Brand new eyes

The Long Exile

Cast away the bonds of blood

Drowning in an unseen sea

Black womb waters

Inhale amniotic fluids

Caught in internal ocean

Open eyes can't behold

From this place

To another life

What safety is there

None my child

Find your way

Without my hand

In here 

In here

From here

Cast out

Cast out

Expelled

Driven into the world

Find your brothers

And your sisters

Cast out 

Expelled

Out there

First Actions

Our first act in life is to cry,
Our second is to trust.
Our lives are continuations
Of both.

For my niece, Kristen

She's a fresh human being.

Blank slate. Pure. That is

Unbridled hope.

At birth

I had no face but I did not mind.
My parents were greatly troubled by it
but there was little they could do.
In the first hours after I was born
I gap appeared, then I had a mouth.
The next day my right eye appeared
where there had once only been
smooth skin. Two days after that my left
eye appeared in the same fashion.
Over the next month my nose grew
in steadily, as that finished my ears
began to come in. Finally, my eyebrows
and eyelashes grew in to complete
the human look.

I tell people about this from time to time,
most everyone doesn't believe me.
My parents have pictures of me
from this time but they prefer to keep them
between us. I don't think about the how
or why, I just know that I am now
as I was meant to be, just as flawed
and whole as any of us ought.

Birth

This is a facsimile of thoughts

from a specific date on no specific

subject. The thought is incomplete


because the writer had planned on

jotting down a few words in hopes

it would jog memory the next time


it was read back from the hastily

scribbled piece of paper. Instead,

moments of frustration bloomed


in lieu of a full-term child. It could

not cry out, only move its grasping

hands for a world beyond its reach.

Continual Change

Every waking

is a rebirth 

if we wish

it to be.

Reclamation

I am not lost,

I have returned to a home

never known.


I am not afraid,

I am finding the birth right

bequeathed to us.


Bird song fills

soft-lit afternoons,

a different kind of silence.


Feral kin step quietly

nearby. We exchange

a knowing glance.


I do not speak.

My voice has become

a stranger to myself.


I do not fear.

I will be provided for.

Reclaiming an ancient legacy.