Dew Drops of Womanhood

Me and my dripping unborn child
lay soft on bed
wrapped in a warm blanket.

Meeting & greeting
each other
every new moon
is our monthly ritual.

Aware of each breath, I take-
& aware of each breath, it loses.

I lay still on bed,
meek in body.
With aching limbs
& fallen arms,
With rising temperature
& feeble breath,
With shivering spirit
& revolting heart,

I lay still in bed.
Still in spirit.

It slowly unfurls itself
& flow in quick gush
of folds.

So, I lay still in bed
& let it the dew drops
of womanhood fall.

(Succumbing to the very nature
Of the feminine world of nurturing)

I let it fall.
I let it fall.
I let it fall.