There comes a peculiar feeling
With the completion of a poem
A sense of truth
Even if the topic is foreign to you
Like a mother giving birth
She has never met this human
But it lived inside of her for months
Connected in the womb
Growing each day
Just like a poem
That grows in the mind
An emotion
Growing in the pit of the stomach
And then comes the creation
That began with conception
And is born unto the world like the wailing infant
Desperate to be seen
As a passionate idea brought into the world
And in the world it grows
Away from you
In other hearts
Then you realize it is no longer yours to claim
That’s okay.
For there is relief in creating and letting go
What was once felt by one
Can now be felt by many.
Breathe
the birthing process is done