WOMB OF ALL BEGINNINGS
WOMB OF ALL BEGINNINGS
In the delicious womb of all beginnings
we learnt to giggle electrons
to bear all things
without nusturtiums, pink lilies or doughnuts
warm gurglings of God’s dream for us
Morning glories were waiting
deep below, as were waves
trickling tears, camel caravans
meditation chambers and prison cells
We knew not of Monadic eggs
searing pain or Split-souls
neither of Solar eclipses or
random moon calendars
Just twirled tickling HIS
desires on how to wear our hair
or present ourselves
It was our own desires
petering back and forth
as we curled protons around
each other’s potions
Fasting, food or fiction
politicians or poets
such did not exist
in the womb of all beginnings
No Ts to cross or pottage to prepare
only a smooth in and out of HIS
breath as spectre spectrums
of delicate dedication
making toenail patterns
in fallopian winds whirling eerily
Waiting for a dandelion thread
meant learning to listen for stardust
before they glimmering shone
on the Milky Way as dragon
wings wooed webbed witches
Linen shirts were far far away
in horizons deep down or
behind or before
Stone tablets on which were
written stories we cared
to decipher not though
figurines enthrallingly called
All was nothing in this still
beginning of beginnings in the
Womb of all beginnings
where we felt one another
without spaces between
wrinkle swam in microcosms of pitch
To fathom HIS voidness
Touch HIS encircling hum heaves
mounds, waiting as breath
softly sting sing shadows silent
our moistness glistening around bodies
vague in distant futures unsolidified
after guns were bonfired in bushes
or madhouses melted in momentum
In HIS stillness we stilled our electrons
from leaping toward one another
HE assented our Belovedness to
weave high-pitch frequencies on a
Blue Planet lifting itself
foreshadowing IPhone portraits
of enticements for us to know
that we could, if we wished
then dissolve all vedanas
into thin air dusted with autumn
leaves in Africa South or
spring blossoms in America North
or sprawling glistening
mansions waiting empty on
Andromedan gardens
In this womb of all beginnings
no thing to smell or taste or ponder
no restless quantum jumps
planes to catch or constellations to
explore or what to call ourselves
on someone else’s screen was a
scream we cared not to hear
or discern somewhere in
brain neural networks not yet
neutered
Making of marrow slow or fast
it did not merrily matter
since open and close
was one inexplicable
blank blind beginning
where I could play hide and seek
so safely silent knowingly
In the womb of all beginnings
as spindly spines tangled then untangled
spooky synchronic signs lay beckoning
as distant vasting visions on
vistas of veritable wisdom
our pink palm centres exchanged
silver webs weaving crystal curdles
Chattering light bubbles curled
designing lips for smiling or eating
we knew not what dust or juice
HE could not decide on fruit
or sand or octopus and ivory
then said we could have all
we wished
Care we did not
it was just too snug
the growing of a beard whisked onto
an emerging speck in HIS belly
yours or mine
female or male or both
or none ?
Snug or warm
to leave we must
Obey HIS command to touch
the roots of pine, birch, cow dung
how to hold a crutch or feed a baby
stroke a wrinkle or hasten a
New Dawn
An injunction to open a pale
rose exuding a faint
new octave rebirthing
Up into His throat we swam
Out in a slow steady breath
onto two shimmering
threads of goodbyes
We were gone !
No other womb can contend…
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song
2024
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