Birth"Mother, I don't want to wake up."A cloudy yellow and pink shield fit tightly over my eyes. It was dark, but the light shone through what I assumed to be a thin layer of something around me. I could feel the bottom stirring; the container was shifting underneath me. Head tucked downwards, legs bunched up; I was crouched in a fetal position. The pink and yellow was so warm, I didn't want it to go away. She knew it was time and without words she told me. I knew I should trust her judgment. Father trusted her.I imagine to the unknowing eye, I would have looked strange from the outside. At the time I did not know of course, what the outside was. I did not know there was an outside to begin with. Still to the curious passerby I was only a bud. A small seed that grew in front of the all seeing eyes of the forest. From a tiny seed that flourished into what some would say was a giant bud that would soon be in bloom. The leaves around me were ready to part and separate
It Is SheIt is she, she who holds my heart down.Like a thousand needles she rains upon my back,I can feel her deep within my skin.Her voice is harsh, her voice is cold.Her rejection like a single pin through my soul.No longer do I feel her light upon my back,Or her touch against my fragile skin.Though I do sense her, with the clapping anger overhead.She is broken, if only for a short time.Something has rained like a thousand needles upon her back.She strikes down with fiery vengeance,Darkness swirling in her eyes.Her warm touch seems like a distant memory now,But yet I feel it building, overcoming the harsh rains.I feel the wind slow over my back,The needles fall away slowly, delicately.She reaches down, I feel her now.I can hear her song flowing in the air around me.Her song is warm, it is loving.I can feel it on my chest, on my shoulders, over my face.And soon, she is still.Her song lingers in the branches, echos over the hills.But she is growing silent, growing sleepy.