birth (with Emory Hall)

You built a life
Under ten moons, you were a house of water
You held a second heart in the arms of your rib cage, dreamed two sets of dreams
Merged the rivers of your bloodlines under your skin
And then, in the early hours of a spring morning, I watched a piece of you leave, swallowed in the pain of your shattering
You broke, and the rains of new life poured out of you

You are now the mother of that dawning ground
The guardian of its soil
The mender of its aching
The gardener of its joy
This is your work now

You were born in your dying
You were delivered to a new life as you birthed one into existence

You are utter magic
Building that mountain

Birth