here today

 

i sing.

couple of months ago stephan aizenstadt came to town.
the workshop was on dreamtending and all the Jungians were there in their shawls and such.

he told a story of a village where the women when they are ready to become mothers they find a tree and sit under it and listen for the song of their child-to-be.

when the song comes to them they learn it and sing it or hum it while the baby is in the womb and they teach it to the father and also to the other women of the village.

at the birth, the women all gather around and sing the song of the child that was listened for by its mother under a tall tree

a few weeks ago a song came to me I was not listening for it but still it arrived and although I only had a tiny beginning of a baby in me for a week and then it was gone still the song has not stopped.

I sing to the sun in the sky I sing to the sun rising high

Posted by: 120pages at 17:09 | link | comments (3) |

stage fright

You sit next to me while we look at her
hands around my throat, tight.
I open and close my baby bird mouth
Wanting to be fed but with what I don’t know

Behind me or maybe slightly to the left the tick tock of a minute hand
tells me the weight of this might be more than I can lift just now

It started out easy
one of those light-hearted days
One of those oh my what have I been up to?
Listing out he saids and she saids
Moving from word to word as if strands of meaning did not connect them
Pretty beach rocks tumbled together in a pile, some from years ago, some from that trip we took last weekend.
In the end I can never remember which is from where and when but I love them all still.

It started out so easy
One of those light-hearted days
I thought to deliver a small problem to play with
So I mentioned it
Off-handedly brought it in for us to look over
And that’s when words began to feel more like
That last little bit of toothpaste in a tube
when you wonder why you are even squeezing
And do you really want it

You sit next to me while we look at her
Hands around my throat, tight

Posted by: 120pages at 16:52 | link | comments |