The land is my womb!

baby-feet-hands

My feet feel raw today
Raw from the rock floors and muddy paths they have crossed
The comfort of the keyboard
And the scroll of the screen
Paling in comparison with the alive ruggedness of the land
With its cycle of death and birth
Not in the distance
But right up close

This place is not my home
The land is Not my home
but my womb
Not my womb which to bare fruit
But the womb I crawl inside of to remember from where I came

I am the mama bear
But still there is a place from where I was born
And it isn’t in a hospital
Or a city street
It is from the land

Do you cry when you remember this?
Does your heart shrivel in the knowledge that you aren’t alone?

I have heard it said that we can’t ever return home
But home is a revolving current reaching out to us
We only need to stop
And lie in the tall grass
As the [sunlight] pepper our backs

We stop and stay still
Not in the hope of salvation
But in the knowledge that all that we need is already within us
It comes from the land, too

My body hangs heavy on the earth as it has done a million times before
Abundance raging through me
Reminding me that open space is the only womb I need
Panoramic mountain vistas pulling me out of my shell

Concrete cages me in
I lose myself in its solidness
But when all I can see is meadows, grass and mountain peaks
The freedom of potential that is my birthright slaps me across the face
And I wonder why I ever left

Open space is my womb
To be birthed and to birth my gifts
To see you beyond your limitations of thought and feeling
But instead for the wild animal you are
Open space holds me close, fills me up and lets me go
Open space hold me down, brings me back and spits me out

Where are you reminded that everywhere is home?
Go there
Lie down and be still
Let this reminder be your prayer

-Ruth Lera

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