TWINED POETIC MOTHERING AND FATHERING
My heart is inditing a good
matter…my tongue is the
pen of a ready writer.
(Psalm 45:1)
I
Poetic Intentions
Sitting here waiting, fogged brain—
Like an anxious womb—craves
Impregnation of creativity:
Pleading the fertilizing genius thereof,
To usher in the seed of the birth
Of the long desired poem:-
It’s soon painfully realized
That poetry is of the nature
Of the sowing mind, deciding
When, where, and indeed how,
The midwife of revelations will be
Called to monitor delivery:-
The crisis of unawareness cured—
In awareness—I now cheerfully
Ponder in sage contemplation,
As the spirit of the poetic midwife
Soothes my anxious, suffering nature
With the coming joy of poetic parenthood:-
II
Poetic incubation
Here, woodshedding in the cave of self,
My pregnant mind seems to have gone
Into an eerie state of suspended animation;
Leaving excited, wiggling words, kicking
And loudly jumping around, as if they
Where in a kind of drunken stupor:-
And when so aroused, such words seem
To rise and hop onto a roving lexical
Poetic merry-go-round: whorl pooling
And wave frothing towards waiting shores
To be inked and moisturized into awareness
And hydrated sands of beaching enlightenment:-
Poetic minds do not just exist;
Rather, they are living mind-wombs,
Waiting the fertilizations of wordings—
Deeply sown in endometrial cognition—
To be reaped into waiting juicy fruits
Of divine wisdom and navigating guidance:-
The poem is not merely
A mental shot-out ejaculation:-
Rather, it’s the result of spiritual incubation
In the mind’s womb, and when it’s deemed so,
The Creator breaks water's flowing poetic blooms:
The man-shed, and she-cave, the mere waiting rooms:-