Menarche, Menarche: blood from the underground

Twas a curse from the beginning

The sore uterus composing

her refrain

Repeatedly, repeatedly

at the end of each verse

Repeatedly, repeatedly

at the end of each rhythm,

a scarlet discharge

With hopes to besiege the ineffable home

To soak into the garb,

rags,

costumes,

shame,

guilt

with gruesome life

(a molten descent)

Her refrains shrill of

ancient relics that tie

one to the other

however barren, however yielding

Together delivering a sign

of merciful authority

Who can withstand

pang after pang,

instinct after instinct,

teardrop after teardrop,

bloodshed after bloodshed

through a chorus of Revival?

Dare not diminish, curse

or blot her out

All of creation,

indebted

All of creation,

in unison

For who has not

groaned

or bled

or rejoiced

over life?

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1 Comment

Filed under poetry, Uncategorized

One response to “Menarche, Menarche: blood from the underground

  1. love this. as a doula, my imagination is carrying me to many new imaginative places about Jesus’ birth this year – much in the vein of this poem. your words are beautiful & refreshing. thank you. and happy, hope-full christmas.

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