BIRTHING

Up on its scintillating surface 

this day, like all others, appears to be about 

the places we go, things we do, people we see.

But that’s just its craftily engineered veneer.

Deep beneath its sensorial skin, 

today is really about birthing.

Our mother gave us physical birth 

along with something else, something 

equally loving, equally astounding.

She put the oxygen mask on first, 

showed us how birthing is done,

showed us that it can be done. 

Note that none of our birth

was actually in our control, 

--and for good reason!

Knowing neither what was happening, 

nor what we were doing, 

we’d likely have botched it badly

or worse, knowing human nature, 

we may have opted not to go through with it. 

After all, what was your first reaction? 

You cried.

And what of the new year? 

What will we do with this gift

from the Mother of all mothers,

born of the most primal habit 

of the universe: giving birth. 

No, the places, things, people:

They are not the why of our being,

but the what, the when, the where,

and the how of our own giving of birth.

The why? The why of our ways 

is to carry on what Mother conceived,

to give birth to life, to love, to joy.