poem: “this is not a retreat”

This is sort of a poetic followup to my previous post

this is not a retreat
this is not a return to the womb
hell, they cut the womb out of my mother’s body years ago
couldn’t go back if I wanted to

but when I popped my head out between my momma’s legs
I left the womb where I was formed
to enter a whole new world

and that’s what this is too
leaving the world where this sense of “I” was formed
to enter a whole new world

yes, the Christians got this right: you must be born again
but not just once, not just twice, not even thrice
but again and again and again
like a snake shedding its skin to make room to grow more
like a dreamer waking from a dream within a dream within a dream

I forget again and again
and that’s difficult
but each time I remember I learn more
and that’s the reward to not knowing

I burst forth from myself
ripping open myself
to give birth to myself
each womb is left behind
but each time I realize I am the womb
each time I tear myself apart —

so if I want a birthing metaphor
perhaps I am more egg that cracks apart
in order to produce another egg
and in between the phoenix dies in flames

but in fire and destruction there is no retreat
each time the bridge behind me is burnt up
each time I must go forward and get larger
until “I” expands to fill the universe

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