the womb just quakes
as motherís thoughts and feelings reach
the quiet darkened space will shake
without a voice, to cry, beseech
its long and lonely life
the fear that mother had instilled
would increase tension, bringing strife
despite the calm the spirit willed
one describe the feel
of deathís intent within the womb?
How will this wound ever heal
when steeped in terror of the tomb?
a mere idea gained
such impetus as baby grew
abortion was the thought that stained
and fear began ascent anew
one soul reconcile
the paradox of birth and death...?
with tension bringing all the while
a catch to every deeper breath
tiny, tender soul
alone in painful, dark descent
torn from warmth of watered hold
toward life that holds its death inherent
darkness? Love... despair?
and heart beats to the opposition
Does mother love or hate? Beware
the reckoning, the recognition
of the power
Life given, taken at her whim
and tiny, tender soul must yield
to greater strength as life begins...
? Michaelette ?
1998 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...