the Mandala of Birth

i carefully crossed the threshold
of apple orchards and nuptial vows
placing each foot firmly on the ground.

i prepared for motherhood
with wide eyes and thick skin
accepting that love is dirty and often times painful.

but most importantly i waited until i knew
there was nothing inside this uni*verse
that could crumble the foundation
i was about to build upon.

now, i am walking the mandala of parenthood
with bare feet in colored sand
setting intentions bound
to be redrawn by the wind.

i am learning to listen to the wisdom of my body
embrace what i cannot see unfolding in the absence of light:

a child emerges from this fertile planet
with eyes like the sun
under dendrite dancing stars
with lungs like trees
that inhale each season
and exhale change through
veins that run like rivers
over the geography of the unknown.

i am nothing more than a vessel
blessed with the privilege of witnessing
the union of light and dark, reproducing
this miracle of being alive.