Musings by The Poet Loriet

Fertility

Fertility
 
The sky droops pregnantly
towards a parched, barren earth
which thrusts hilly tongues
upward--
searching, yearning
for liquid comfort.
 
The clouds' dark underbellies
tease the arid blades of grass.
The grass sways,
emulating a Yoga-like tree pose,
stretching higher
with each cleansing breath.
 
Mother Nature grows impatient,
reaching into her midwifery bag,
brandishing her amnihook.
 
She tears through
membranous silver linings
which enshroud  
the bulging bag of water.
 
Life-nourishing
amniotic fluid
surges forth
spilling upon Mother Earth's
tainted ground,
once again
restoring sweet
virginity.
 
 
Lori Beal


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Fertility

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