sere, barren.
My fertile crescent changed
by time's hot winds.
I am uterus come to terms
with the absence of coming to term.
No bloodline contribution
did I procreate.
What gift did I deprive my world of?
What missed opportunity?
Oh Daughter,
my own self renewed,
forgive me.
Forgive me.
Or Son, awakened beloved,
You too,
you too.
And yet
yet,
how full and pregnable I remain.
I, earth tethered and still conceiving
that hidden within
is an underground spring
nourishing
a perpetually blooming
oasis desert rose.
2003
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