Gravity weighs on
my swollen body
heavy with blood and
tears.
The iron ebbs from my spine.
Lunar forces squeeze
my solar plexus
with mysterious hands.
I am the Earth Mother,
the water-bearer,
rich and wild and burgeoning
cradle of life—
in my travail
I lie with knees
drawn up to aching breasts
and let blood and tears,
cleansing,
flow.
November 8, 1995