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Chogyam Trungpa’s labour room

I am the birther,

head flung back

and then staring forward

without a plan

and only the deep contraction of pain

that is also exhultation.

 

Too long I worried about

what kind of creatures

I was growing,

whether they had what they needed

to suck nourishment

instead of paltry poison,

and what they looked like

in the light.

 

Too long I worried

that the bleeding was not fresh,

a residue of afterbirths

layering in my womb.

 

Too long I feared

the debt of caretaking

with all this proliferation,

and even had the gall

to question the parenting

of many I hold dear.

 

The labour room has space

for all of us,

come lie down

for the rest

between the times you are gripped,

listen to my moans

and I will hear your panting,

know

that we are safe from madness

through our surrender.

“To birth the baby and dwell on the baby at the same time engenders madness.” – Chogyam Trungpa

 

Published inPoems