Sunday, October 4, 2009
I try to give birth alone often.
Without sperm, without child, without
God. I push hard and like dry heaving
my womb gasps and thrusts, delivering
all I’ve been having sex with: “good” works,
law keeping, fear, guilt and condemnation;
conceiving chaff, begetting stubble--
giving birth to wind.
But God waits patiently to flood
my belly with living water, birth
Spirit conceived on Spirit, and
plant within my womb new seed.
“And she who was called barren is in her sixth month…”
"And behold, even your relative Elizabeth has also conceived a son in her old age; and she who was called barren is now in her sixth month.
“We were with child, we writhed in pain, but we gave birth to wind. We have not brought salvation to the earth; we have not given birth to people of the world.”
“You conceive chaff, you bring forth stubble;”