for Nicholas Oak Olivam
Firefly orbs and day
lily blooms.
New moon, dark moon – waxing
lunar face.
Midsummer, solstice sun –
waning solar strength.
A mystic’s map: dreams,
and an astral alignment of
renewal.
Womb turns with awakening in
morning. His birth begins.
Rushes like ebb
and flow of currents pulled by celestial bodies –
labyrinthine
pathways downward, earthward.
Breathe moan
grunt silence. Expansive
elation, and ache.
Suffering and joy. Clutch,
release. Only this moment, dive in
Ocean of Unknown. The
day stretches into two.
Slow intensity – hips sway side
to side, measure progress by their circles –
time lapses in round
rhythms of descent.
Deep healing cave waters. Open,
throaty Oms – primal energy grounding
struggle.
His father’s hands hold steady. The sun hangs high, drops.
Sliver of moon cuts shades of hours.
Finally path of surrender
illuminates. Fear flies at the holy dusk of wonder: the secret –
kill all
knowing sacrifice
fixation trust what has always unfolded despite you.
No
truth, only a way to follow – this.
Space is only here-now, soft
shadow and mystery and pain – bodies separating.
Waters break and channel flows like
moonbeams.
Push. Blood
in swells – stream
of spirit
in waves of strong medicine from
nameless matrilineage,
ancestors speaking walking swimming
birthing beyond.
Black hair curls over crowning
head –
fingers touch the
miraculous.
Portal opens – Joy
– Power
– Scream
– another
soft, long awaited cry and Love. His father’s hands place him – limbs,
shoulders, lips
between my
arms. Hearts beat, rest on one another. Cord
pulses, stills.
Luminous body born in night:
pearl-white skin to purple – my own flesh in my arms –
not mine, something eternal.
He looks up– dark-bright
eyes see older than paradox.
Victory of the people. Rooted doorway of prophecy. Sacred extension of peace.
Fulfillment like the immovable sun, the
steadfast moon – transformation like the tides.
His birth begins.
