12.21.22 ended my 33rd trip around the sun.
as i was reminiscing on what 34 might have in store, i was reminded of a poem i wrote as a brand new mom. i wrote it on my phone while carrying my baby in her wrap while she slept, walking around my quiet & chaotic home. feeling overwhelmed by the weight of change brought up feelings & fears regarding the process of life & aging. SEED (pg 212 of my book “tuesdays; a poetic anthology of nature) explored those thoughts. what made it into the book is about a fifth of the original poem, which spans 3 full pages. i feel like it’s time to share that with y’all. below is the original script for SEED in her entirety, which was originally titled FORM, & also contains what i published in that collection as STARDUST.
i hope it resonates. for your energy, you have my gratitude. blessings & blooms to you.
love, b.
F O R M
today i felt old
the weight of early mornings
unopened mail
diapers to be washed
& a second cup of coffee that went cold
i felt old
i did yoga in my robe
on giant colourful abc’s
a puzzle made of foam
amidst a train toppled over
presumably
by the wooden zoo it in
the dog naps in my bed
as i wash my face
& remember all the me’s
there used to be
i bare my teeth
to clean them
& thank them
for feeding me
for saving me
all with a bite
how easily gratitude
can turn to sorrow
i look in my eyes
& tell her
to remember
the flowers i bought
last week
still perched
in the sun
they remind me
that aging
& time
is only in what we see
she tells me
stretch towards the sun
& bloom
for growth
is what it really be
whether your core
is pollen or stardust
each stage a line
a vien in every petal
or planet in your system
we must learn
life is in the pause
& all the colour
in between
the earth understands me
she is the womb
for the seed
that is me
i feel myself
shedding
fire
blooms burning
a flower bows
in grace
& beauty
welcoming
the wilt
with the knowledge
that her being
her breath
her beauty
is eternal
a flower’s death
is not final
it is simply
the returning of physical form
back into the earth
i return to the mirror
& see the lines on me
the turning of colours
& swaying of my form
the same way
// ©️ b. gurr