A Woman’s Alchemy
No need to tell a pregnant woman how big she looks or doesn’t look for where she is at in her pregnancy
Or what she should put in her body
Or that she will never sleep again
Or have a life
No need
Because her orbit is being dictated by the cosmos
Her poundage determined by the gods
Her intake
Her outtake
Her purpose
Her music
Her muse
Her pains
Her healing
Are far beyond the opinion you carry
Shaped by a society who hides the truths of what bringing a life to this planet actually entails
Tides rise in her brain, in her being, that are inexplicable
You can call it phrases like “mommy brain” or “nesting”
But from where I sit and where my eyes gaze
And what my mind wraps upon
None of that is the case
In fact
Ancient symbols communicate
And as I struggle to pick objects up o the ground
Or raise myself out of the bed or a car or a chair
As my eyelashes fall to the ground
And my breathing is labored
As my digits swell
And my head bends over the toilet another time
I know this great creation
To bloom the blossoms of sacred eternity
Exploding inside me
A spindle
Weaving a magic beyond comprehension
Creation is messy
Creation is messy
Creation is messy
And to be respected
Some of the greatest warriors in history brought life here
So don’t clown
Or underestimate what a woman can do with a babe in her arms
The alchemy she can create
Illuminating the healing of century old stuck
Stop buying into the western world’s way of putting a woman in her place Stop and reconsider
Chose something different
This piece is dedicated to the voice in me
That no longer need be silent
And in turn the collective voice
By giving voice
And speaking truth
We instantly being to transmute the ignorance
And recreate the paradigm