Advent: Birthing

A poem

This is the season
of being born
out of the dark depths
of the year.

Something in us
fears the dark
yet every child begins
in the lightless womb,
every seed
must be buried
deep in earth,
and even black holes
may bring forth stars
that scatter across
this winter sky.

This is the season
of giving birth
to the deepest things
inside of you.

We are all mothers
groaning in travail
between the conception
and the coming forth.

We must stretch,
break,
breach,
bleed,
to bring forth beauty
to this weary world.