Hello, dear readers and fellow poets, writers, mystics, all! Well, there are only three days (counting today) left in April so I felt a great desire to write a new poem! Wow, you have inspired me and motivated me to keep going. You have confirmed to me that I can still write fresh, new poetry, instead of just working on older pieces. Sometimes I work and work on them just to prime the pump. That does help when the creative process has to step aside because my energy bank account is low. As I’ve said before, I have folders of poems to offer and will go through them after April, National Poetry Writing Month. But now, I know that I will continue to write new poems, mining the ever-renewable resource of language for that glint of a phrase, and the fire in my heart to type it, work it, publish and share it! I have other plans for my blog, secret plans (because I don’t know how to do them yet!), someday, soon to be revealed.
This piece is, well, where did it come from? Not a movie or an incident, just from my ever-healing subconscious mind and my love of words. It’s like dreams, or tarot cards, or any symbolic event that leads one to the truth within. With that, I present:
FIRST-BORN CHILD
I kept my cool under the fire
the fire that begat
the first-born child of the world
I watched
and I knew
that child would need more love
than we ever thought we had to give
that child would be fire and stone
tossed in the middle of the ocean
lost in the subconscious
of all her descendants to come
that child would be a stone
far too heavy to carry
but she would carry herself forward
oh yes, she would be the stone
buried in my heart
the one that burns red and white hot
the one that became
lost in my subconscious
and I must let her go
I must throw her into the ocean
and watch her thrash new lands
into being
cooling and steaming
and birthing
new lands for her children…
and never look back
never despair
never doubt or worry;
for this is the first-born child,
the fire and the hope
for all our descendants to come.
Lady Diane Randall