The Birth Of Thought

I feel that my mind is pregnant
That my due date is near and I must prepare
I must find a quiet place and sit, and sit
I must prepare for birthing, for the arrival of my offspring
And it will be beautiful
Like the woman of the wood who waits, in shack
Amongst other woman who waits for new life

I too should prepare for at any moment
I will be more than the sum of my parts
My womb….my thought;
The chamber of my discontent
My canal…my pen
More ancient than any conception of myself
My crib.. the paper
That bears witness and must carry and present
The burden of my heart
And the excrement of my soul
If I am the progenitor, than you must be
The carrier of untold burdens

I am with word and soon it shall come
And as my body embraces its own lethargy
The remnant of a thousand hearts
Beats more furiously than an aboriginal drum
Furious and loud
On the thousandth beat an explosion rocks the Earth’s very core
My precious child you have arrived
My iniquities and poor concepts of self
Have found reversal in you
You will mature and be better than I could ever be
You will surpass me for your greatness knows
No limits in the sanctity of your infantile ignorance
I will nurture you and you will bathe in glory
I will fill the tub so that you may bathe in infinity
Welcome to our world
In your arrival we have both found new life….

The Birth Of Thought

Trish Cooper

Bloomington, United States

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Artwork Comments

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