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WOMB OF ALL BEGINNINGS


In the delicious womb of all beginnings 
we learnt to giggle electrons
to bear all things 
without nusturtiums, pink lilies or doughnuts 
warm gurglings of God’s dream for us

Morning glories were waiting 
deep below, as were waves 
trickling tears, camel caravans 
meditation chambers and prison cells

We knew not of Monadic eggs 
searing pain or Split-souls
neither of Solar eclipses or 
random moon calendars

Just twirled tickling HIS
desires on how to wear our hair
or present ourselves 
It was our own desires
petering back and forth
as we curled protons around 
each other’s potions 

Fasting, food or fiction 
politicians or poets
such did not exist 
in the womb of all beginnings

No Ts to cross or pottage to prepare
only a smooth in and out of HIS 
breath as spectre spectrums 
of delicate dedication 
making toenail patterns 
in fallopian winds whirling eerily 

Waiting for a dandelion thread
meant learning to listen for stardust
before they glimmering shone
on the Milky Way as dragon
wings wooed webbed witches

Linen shirts were far far away
in horizons deep down or
behind or before 
Stone tablets on which were 
written stories we cared 
to decipher not though
figurines enthrallingly called


All was nothing in this still 
beginning of beginnings in the 
Womb of all beginnings 
where we felt one another 
without spaces between 
wrinkle swam in microcosms of pitch
To fathom HIS voidness


Touch HIS encircling hum heaves 
mounds, waiting as breath
softly sting sing shadows silent 
our moistness glistening around bodies
vague in distant futures unsolidified 
after guns were bonfired in bushes 
or madhouses melted in momentum


In HIS stillness we stilled our electrons 
from leaping toward one another
HE assented our Belovedness to 
weave high-pitch frequencies on a 
Blue Planet lifting itself
foreshadowing IPhone portraits 
of enticements for us to know
that we could, if we wished
then dissolve all vedanas
into thin air dusted with autumn 
leaves in Africa South or
spring blossoms in America North
or sprawling glistening 
mansions waiting empty on
Andromedan gardens 


In this womb of all beginnings 
no thing to smell or taste or ponder
no restless quantum jumps 
planes to catch or constellations to 
explore or what to call ourselves
on someone else’s screen was a 
scream we cared not to hear
or discern somewhere in 
brain neural networks not yet 
neutered 


Making of marrow slow or fast
it did not merrily matter 
since open and close 
was one inexplicable
blank blind beginning
where I could play hide and seek 
so safely silent knowingly 


In the womb of all beginnings 
as spindly spines tangled then untangled
spooky synchronic signs lay beckoning 
as distant vasting visions on 
vistas of veritable wisdom
our pink palm centres exchanged 
silver webs weaving crystal curdles


Chattering light bubbles curled
designing lips for smiling or eating
we knew not what dust or juice
HE could not decide on fruit 
or sand or octopus and ivory
then said we could have all
we wished

Care we did not
it was just too snug
the growing of a beard whisked onto
an emerging speck in HIS belly
yours or mine
female or male or both 
or none ?


Snug or warm 
to leave we must
Obey HIS command to touch
the roots of pine, birch, cow dung
how to hold a crutch or feed a baby
stroke a wrinkle or hasten a 
New Dawn 
An  injunction to open a pale
rose exuding a faint
new octave rebirthing

Up  into His throat we swam
Out in a slow steady breath 
onto two shimmering 
threads of goodbyes 
We were gone !

No other womb can contend…



©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song
2024
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