For our Little One
The earth has loosened her skin
so I may wear her, and she may cool me
She has gifted me an onion
to remind us of tears, of the effortless welling up
whose translucent layers stay close to her
heart, the onion becomes us and lingers on our tongue
and we remember we are nourished, and that
we have cried.
Discover your rage and behold it
as a bull in musth, remember but do not regret
discover your self in all forms beneath the sun
tear choking, belly grunting, birth giving, shy blind baby
every you is swaddled and held
in the water hole you have dug
by the trunk that is yours
a bull in musth has killed a villager
and still he may drink from the hole,
and sleep in the earth
like a calf on the nipple you belong
discover the milk
which has bled from your severed onion
and even in pain you belong
create the footpath that will nourish those who follow
the hyena who has stalked your baby
now sips from your water hole
maybe, once, the hyena was you—
remember but do not regret
and if you do, it is okay too
I will trot in place
to the beat of your heart
and jostle your bones
held in your own pulse
your mother’s burp tap
the click of your dreaming eyes
rhythm of that song which erected your hairs
and opened your forehead
enter the earth of your body
and remember you belong.