Birth

In between
slices of rain
there is
thunder.

Waves of wind
pelt the window –
I howl with it,

a sound from
my blood
as my body
turns against me.

A storm renews
the land,
but first destroys
what stands too tenderly.

In between
slices of rain
there is
birth.

I recently witnessed 18 hours of labor and wow, the elemental brutality of birth came through.

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Green

I am green
but not with envy
– with ivy

the deep ferns
of a rich, fragrant
forest

the color of oak
leaves
and redwood
needles

I drink deep
and deeper
through new roots

My human body
is not my
real body

my green body
comes awake

You cry for me
but each day
I grow closer

to the sky

my leaves unfurl
and drink in the rich
love of the sun.

I go from pale
to such a vibrant color
you’ve never seen.

Happy New Year to my readers. This poem was inspired by walking in nature (the Cambridge Botanic Gardens) and also reflecting on growth, change, death and what it is- can there be death without something new sprouting? May we all find the green.