by Bahar Orang
What do you carry, so soft and heavy
inside that swollen, crooked belly?
Is it the lumpy globe, round as bum-cheeks
fecund as forever, green and blue and brown ?
Is it a swinging basket, filled to bustling brim
with apple-bosoms, flower-fleet, rustling, rising leaves?
Or is it a little pot, rich and rushing earth, with simple-seed,
lifting its gentle palms to your aching skin?
What’s in that heaving hammock, that glowing, lilted lantern?
Is it every star and every moon, every celeste and all the rest,
dust and dove and dream, filling your fiercest belly?
It might be beauty, so much inside of you
But agony for sure, as baby-bud lifts its branches,
rearranging you, making and unmaking you,
breathing you in and breathing you out,
as it does and undoes your body-home,
stretching riven-roof, pushing upon unready-door.
Do you know how strong and brave and bold you are?
To give, to give, just like you do
Sharing blood and limb, knowing love and pain
To bloom and burst just like you do, to move slow, breathe fast,
and to listen, like this, to something else, to someone else.
We’ll take care of you, precious magic that you are
caretakers of each other, where all babies should be born.
Bahar is a student from Hamilton who cares about rad healthcare, poetry, kissing.