Genesis by Monica Davis

GENESIS

CONCEPTION

Where are you from,

O spark of

Literary life?

What gives rise to you?

Is it a word,

Caught on the edge of an

Overheard conversation?

A thought, or feeling,

That suddenly drills into a well

Of emotion,

So deep and powerful,

That it cannot be tapped,

But must be burned off,

To release the pressure?

A painting? A photo;

A sight once seen that

Must be addressed,

Lest it become an

Obsession?

Maybe that was it.

There you lay in the gutter,

Flightless, and mangled;

A creation that once knew

The loft of wind through feather.

Yes!

That was it!

The photo had to be taken;

The words produced;

Life had to be breathed

Into that which now lay breathless.

I did not realize how

Problematic

That would be—

Such scenes can be printed,

But not all who guard the

Gates of publication,

May find it acceptable;

They may be compelled to

Exercise

An editorial veto.

GESTATION

My mind is pregnant with a

Poem;

It demands

Delivery.

A fertilized egg of awareness,

It becomes an embryo

Embedded in my brain.

A blastocyte,

It divides, multiplies,

Divides again;

Each word a

Helical structure of

Letters, words, sentences,

That burst from the

Womb of creative thought into

Utterance,

And print,

To be swaddled in a

Hardboard receiving blanket,

Cradled on a shelf,

And read.

DEATH

"That bird is dead." Say I.

Says my sister,

“No, it’s not!

Look at the Photo!

It’s decomposed!”

DECOMPOSITION;

The second step in that inevitable

Process of nature.

Not the top step;

A hesitant, indecisive place,

Where life struggles

With that last, shuddering

Breath of air,

Before abandoning itself to

The separation

Of soul from flesh.

CALLED DEATH.

No, the second step—

There, a new adventure

Begins;

Not a measured tread,

But an excited, wriggling, busyness,

Tripping its way downward,

Its only purpose being

To hasten the race

For the bottom

In a slurry of

Nutrients,

Feeding the earth into

REGENESIS.

(Image credit: Monica Davis)