I am From, by Peggy Knorr

Another guest writer this week – this “I am From” poem is from Peggy Knorr, writer extraordinaire ~ .

I am from…..

a thunderstorm; 

not an ordinary one,

but a ferocious Indian monsoonal cataclysm

that split the skies and drenched the earth 

and panicked my tiny body in its effort to escape claustrophobic devastation.

 

I was not ready to leave my private little heaven,

my mother's peaceful growing place, it wasn't time; 

I wanted more of that calm acceptance, 

but now the very muscles that had supported me 

were pushing me hard out into the world, 

and many frantic hands were puling at me 

to break the suction of its cavernous hold;     

each thunderous explosion dissolving one more strand of my insistence to stay behind,  

loosening my pain-wracked determination not to be born. 

 

"Look out, Here she comes" the storm was shouting

"We'll get that little bugger yet.

She needs to know what wakening to the world is like)

It is no small deal to prepare a life for stalwart strength.

We've gathered up our energies in all their immensity

so we can give her fitting start to weather the rough storms of living 

as she needs and as they come.. 

 

"Mis-shapen body, yes, because we are not soft, we did as little damage as we could,

but that will only add to her strength.

The trials she will encounter will be fashioned in the belly of disturbances of mighty forces

and she will have grown used to hard happenings when they come along 

and will welcome them from the beginning for her growth."

 

So spoke the mighty storm, and now since many years have passed 

I hold in honor those tremendous energies that chose to be the beginning of my worldly existence.