Amma

And so, thinking
About what
It was like,
You know,
In the womb…

Well, it was dark.

But the dark was okay,
It was nice.
And it was warm,
But I don’t think I knew that,
But it was nice, too.

And well, then,
I began to
Experience sound.

It was different
Than it is now,
But very nice.

I felt it more
Than I heard it.

I spun around,
And the feeling
Was nice.
Then-

It happened.

I was experiencing
Something….

LOUD,

RAUCOUS,

COLD,

The sounds
Were offensive,
The sound of metal
Against metal,
And whooshing sounds
And choking,
Gasping,
Noises, noises,
What’s happening?
My eyes!

And then,
Wrapped,
Tightly,
Snuggly….

Then I hear
another sound.

That sound…
I know

That sound….

I am this sound…

Copyright 2012

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a poem about human gestation and birth.

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LovingLovelace's picture

I have read this twice now

I have read this twice now (in a row, just now) and I got goose bumbs everytime.

Beautiful.

Love,
LovingLovelace


If your mirror doesn't find you one of the most beautiful people it has ever seen, punch it and find a better mirror.

nightlight1220's picture

Thanks for reading,

Thanks for reading, LovingLoveLace. Amma is the word for Mother in many languages. Sometimes I swear I can remember my own birth, and since I dream little when I sleep, I truly think my mind goes back to the time in the womb. Safe, warm, cocoon.... Peace.


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "