Darcy R's Wisdom Page

What has become of the days
when time dripped from my sticky mango fingers,
When books seemed like a luxury
and the world an open stage?

How do you find yourself
between the tears of a baby,
the demands of a job,
the glances of a partner?

Where do you start?
With silance on a walk,
A swim, a to do list?

Do you look to role models?
Those that find the time to do so much and balance it all,
Those that cook, have the garden, the part time job, the project on the side,
the home they love.

Mabye that's where I should start.
Maybe it's here, within this site
that I am starting to remember that my blood flows throughout,
that my breath expands, that my brain can rest,
that I am myself - with needs, and dreams, and desires to act on.

It is true,
I love my child, my partner, my job
and hate the pattern we're in. 

With time,

I find peace,
myself.
Where I am.

You must participate
in order to become.

She lies waiting within
swelling with breath until
she can no longer carry.

She yeilds for the birth
of self
of child
of ideas
of patience
of the deep abis of love.

That tipping point,
that birth,
is it's own story.

For some it scars,
for others it laughs
and some miss the whole affair altogether
because it was seemless or because they choose to. 

But the outcome,
this right of passage,
this intagration,
this
is still present.  

You are still a different woman
regardless of how you birthed.

And don't suspect you need a child for such an affair,
for children with children are not woman.

The power, unleashed,
the movement of an ocean
giving and taking.

This Right of Passage,
you are now woman.

Feel the rythm of your heart,
it is where you are.