Cycles

Birth.
As my mother before me and her mother before her
I emerge in red waters
Abrupt violence
Drinking my mother’s tears 
As she holds me.
And in her lovely embrace, I realize
I am her exact reflection
Born in an endless cycle.

As my mother before me and her mother before her
I am bearing my mother’s features
Her voice, her hands
And her traumas of an endless war.
Forgotten ancestors
Pain that has never been told
How can I feel it within me without ever knowing it? 

As my mother before me and her mother before her
I am birthed, into cycles
Intergenerational connection
Carrying my ancestors within myself.

As my mother before me and her mother before her
I am born from air
And everything on Earth feels familiar
Listening to the ones who died
And whose voices still resonate within me
Carrying their legacy as I become my own
Belonging deeply to myself
Birthing myself.