September 08, 2009

New Mother

This poem is a recovered memory from a past-life regression therapy session I had a few years ago.  It is about an indigenous woman from North America at a time long before Europeans explorers came here.  I still dream about this frequently.

The baby lasted but an hour.
So small, so cold; no comfort here.
Too young I was, my womb unripe,
and Winter’s not the time for birth.
I’ll have another when it’s Spring.

The rain beats down, my hide is soaked,
and chafes upon my thin, sore frame.
So great a distance we have come,
Much more to tread before we rest.

Babies need a warm, soft sun,
with fragrant grasses to lie upon.
And mothers who have much to eat
for strength- and thick sweet milk to drink.
I’ll have another when it’s Spring.

The food is scarce; small leaves and seeds,
my mother, worried, shares with me.
I see far mountains up ahead,
these we must reach to find a home.

A cave, a fire, small game to eat,
a place without the beating wet.
With thick fur hides to rest upon,
to gather strength and mourn my loss.
I’ll have another when it’s Spring.

I stumble, shaking, and fall into
a small mud hollow beneath a rock.
The rain secludes me from our group.
For me there will not be a Spring.


  1. Nice piece. I'm not sure what I think about past-life regression, but it's given you some good images.

    One of the things I like about using is that they have some different ways you can arrange things. Posts are like this, and the new things keep pushing the older ones back. Pages sit still for you, which is kind of nice.
    You might like trying a practice one, just for kicks, and when you re-post, do it there instead

  2. Hi Cynthia,

    Now, I have to admit that I fibbed earlier on because I realise I have read this before but without commenting! I enjoyed it both times.

    Now, I'm intrigued by what Barbara says and her suggestion that your pages stay still and suggesting reposting one "there instead"?

  3. Any young mother who has a lost a baby can appreciate the loneliness and emptiness so clearly expressed in this poem. Thank you for this piece.

  4. This is a very sad poem that speaks to futility. It makes life feel very fragile and uncomfortable. These are not thoughts I want to harbor for very long. I think everyone needs that hope of spring to hang on to. Your poem is well written and has agonizing imagery. You crafted the ideas remarkably.

  5. love the twist in the end. here's mine cynthia-

  6. A gripping poem, and memory. The repeated line makes it even more effective. Takes one back to a time of basic survival upon the land, and you did it very well. Terrific writing.

  7. vivid imagery..
    love the sentiments captured here.
    Thanks for sharing your art with potluck poetry.

    Happy Monday!


  8. First hand experience is the best to work from. Did you bring back any american Indian language fragments from your regression? Thanks for sharing I enjoyed it very much.

  9. Too young! That is quite the story - chilling!

  10. Interesting piece, sadness felt, chilling. Through past-life regression, current imagination, either way... a write done well.

  11. The repeated line is so effective here, you've really captured the feelings of this sad tale.

  12. interesting subject -- you tell a story well with vivid imagery and the emotion is felt all through out the piece. I enjoyed it.

  13. This was like turning back the pages in time...

    So well done...and so very very sad...

    My potluck: so maybe