Birth

The muse strikes like birth pangs.

A confused stare, a hazy outline

Of an idea.

The limb moves back and forth

You feel yourself pushing and you can't stop.

Not even your body will let you, it continually moves

Swaying, the idea inside gasping for life

Clawing out of you, you feel it crowning

PUSH PUSH PUSH PUSH

It's out. It speaks.

It lives.

It's everything and nothing like you

Expected. A disappointment at first, then deeply satisfying.

 

IT'S HERE!

YOU ARE IT'S CREATOR!

IT LIVES!

 

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allets's picture

The Birth of A Poem

The LaMaze method "PUSH, BREATH BREATH BREATH, PUSH!" The more stanzas, the longer the labor :D Enjoyed this one. ~allets~