Gaia’s Song
Nativity
There are no guarantees.
They are
locked up,
curled
into a
fetal position,
crying,
afraid
of the truth
that growls
from tomorrow’s
eyes.
Tight shut
hands, clenched,
shaking
from an
addictive love
that struggles
against form
in this void
where only
naked hope
sleeps
in silence.
Where
tears
disappear
absorbed
in the
amniotic fluid
of rebirth
that spills
away
from me
as i
struggle
from
my womb
of doubt;
stretching
the passageway;
feeling forces
i do not understand
pulling me
forward;
holding me back.
Poet: Chris Vannoy
© Chris Vannoy
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