Poetry in reverse

I've been thinking a lot about childbirth lately.

Might have something to do with the little feet that keep pressing insistently against my ribs, warming up, as it were, to help catapult new life into the world.

As I think about birth, my mind can't help but turn to other concepts, more abstract and more familiar. And like so many other times, my "new" thoughts are expressible only by the old words and phrases I've heard a thousand times before.

I think perhaps that being born must be something akin to being born again.

And certainly my midwife's role is highly Socratic, being someone who has walked this road herself a number of times, and now guides other women through the births of their children. You could almost say that being a midwife is like being a "midwife of ideas."

The poetry of birth is all around us, inescapably so. So many deeply important things are impossible to discuss without talking in terms of birth. Can we really understand them without understanding birth?

And so it is that I'm quivering with impatient excitement, eager to dance that poem with this, my littlest child.

1 comment:

Emily (Laundry and Lullabies) said...

Yay, you're posting again! (Or was this a random lucky day?) What day are you due, again? And you're using a midwife - how exciting! Home birth or hospital? It has been WAY too long since I talked to you - maybe you should just email me back instead of answering in the comments. ;)