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shamamama Jan 27
"What's your birthstone?  
I don't know, Oh, I know--it's rock."

Black rocks baking in the sun
dot this beach
Like chocolate chips in the dough
They call to us
Come climb,
Come hop on us
Find treasures hidden behind and between
All our dark shadows,

Lying as still as stone
A large rock shape,
Oh, it's grayer
and duller,
and there's sand sprinkled on it,
And it's moving!
It's Living Rock,
The monk seal napping
from its morning meal.

Yes- we watch others walk right by him
caught in their words,
Unaware of the living amongst the rocks,
Living Rock doesn't care
His belly is full

Gray sleek shape
massaged by the wind
with feast in your belly,
So mighty tired!
You taste your sleep for days,
Clouds cover the day's starlight you seek,
Your body begs for light, and yet
Nobody can wake you from your slumber
Not even the high pitched voices
of children playing
nor the fishing lines in and out of the tide

What of your dreams
Oh Large Gray Rock
Do you dream of the ocean tossing
Fish  into your mouth?
Or of the warm sun coming
to bake your skin?

The salt water dances up your nostrils,
You lift your head in mild protest
Then let it rest on your
Ancient bed of coral and shell bones
My feet love to dig into your bed

No insomnia for you sea creatures,
Maybe I should count monk seals
Instead of sheep when I want to sleep,
Your body clock measures time
Not in days or hours
But in meals, in hunts
In fullness, in emptiness
Your sleep is well earned
My friend

We can learn from you.
You bask, dream,
Then awaken renewed
To taste your ocean again,
Rock, monk seal, ocean,  beach, renewal
shamamama Jan 27
Streambed calls to you
Calls to you to share its stories
Trickling water over rocks
Melt into your timeless day,
Your hands gently caress the living water
You feel its gentleness,
Its strength, its current flowing
through your soul

Where are the fish you seek?

As you sit,
Palms dip in water,
Slowly, Slowly
They come, one by one,
To your cup of hands
Curious, cautious
Tasting finger, nail, knuckle

Cupping them gently
Seeing their colors and shapes
Testing their braveness
Wiggling fingers, they dart and dash
This is your way of fishing

Young hand touching fish,
human spirit touching the spirt of fish
You sense one another
How long can you visit?

Land friend meets water friend
This is what you mean by fishing
fishing, nature, human spirit, young child, living water
shamamama Jan 27
You smile-
With new spaces between your teeth,
Newly lost teeth
Cast off to the tooth fairy,
You trade in
to get your new teeth
I hear your laugh,
You flash your toothless smile
I smile back,
The twinkle in your eye tells me
of the wisdom born in you,
The landscape inside your mouth
growing upwards
Like mountains in your being,
Your innocence  birthing into new life experiences
shaping who you are,
Your new toothless smile tells me
of your growing confidence,
You pat me on the back
"It's OK mom, I know who the tooth fairy is,
You don't have to explain."
Your eyes sparkle with magic,
You tell me who the fairy
Really is.
teeth, innocence
shamamama Jan 27
After the birth,
this blue I feel,
I wear it like a robe
tied around me.
its edges hang beyond
floor length
Trailing behind and around me,
Laid out for your posterity.
I touch the still moist umbilical cord
spiral it,
leave it to dry.
I want to cry when I touch it
I am becoming me again, just me.
Now there is a you and a me
I look at you little one
your perfection
Delicate fingers and toes
Pink complexion, gentle hair
I know you are a miracle,
and I cry.
Your umbilicus fell off today.
Your belly button is your own now.
I witness you unfolding into this time,
limbs filling out into every new now,
My ****** expanded for you
And now it shrinks down everyday.
My *******, a river of milk flowing
To meet your hunger,
I hold you to my heart
And I love you,
Every breath,
Every finger,
Every toe
Every look and sound you make,
Every second-- I pour forth with love for you
How will our time
Be together
Will I listen well,
Will you show me well?--
You still see
the invisible umbilicuses
tracing back through every birth to
the original Mother
To the Great Oneness
Every you, and every me
Connected to the Source
To the Breath of Life
Now---- I can see this blue I wear
As the ocean around me
And I can feel the waves
washing me, washing me, washing me.
Mother, birth, postpartum, blue, cry, Source

— The End —