How this began
Posted on | May 31, 2010 | 9 Comments
Going through an old hard drive tonight I found this poem written May 5, 2004… three weeks before I’d find out that I was pregnant with Bean.
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Today I heard that the Voyager satellite, sent up into space
the year before I was born, is now nearing
the edge of our solar system.
Some scientists think it will encounter
a shock wave, before going into the space beyond.
My life feels like this, nearing it’s known edge,
careening, orbiting, drifting off course around some other center
I have not quite named or found, but feel.
I expect to be thrown up soon, with force
upon taking the risks I know I should take but do not yet understand.
I imagine that amidst the white-hot vibrations of shock
it will be the memories of things,
the words and honey comb and lightening storms,
that will cradle me.
Giving birth, when the moment is right
to a new self, among the nebula and stars.
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I had no idea how spot-on I was. A poem, like a tear in the stage curtain of the present, and there I was behind it, peeking through.
I also found this, from August, 2009. A quickly scribbled note about a conversation with Bean:
“I fell from the sky mommy. I was a star, and I fell into your tummy.”
If you look back, can you find any inklings, notes, or snippets about the time when life as you know it now began?
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9 Responses to “How this began”
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I am Christina Rosalie
Hello. I'm so happy you've stopped by!
I am a multimedia storyteller, digital strategist, idea starter, stalker of wonder, finder of four leaf clovers, MFA graduate student, and mama of boys. My first book,
will be published by SKIRT! Books in September, 2012.
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May 31st, 2010 @ 9:52 pm
Holy cow Christina! This gives me goose bumps with shivers! It almost feels divine, doesn’t it? The only memory I have of anything close to this is the night my grandmother died. About two hours before we got the call, I said to Jeff, who was my boyfriend at the time, “My Grandma is going to die soon, will you come with me to her funeral?” He was plenty freaked out when the call came, but I had known it would. Weird, but not nearly so prolific as your poem.
May 31st, 2010 @ 9:54 pm
Wow.
June 1st, 2010 @ 2:25 am
Shivers, indeed. I feel very much like this these days, but I sure hope to God it’s not because I’m pregnant!! HAAAA.
June 1st, 2010 @ 2:48 pm
shivers for me too! how cool is that!
June 1st, 2010 @ 6:37 pm
wow, that is uncanny and beautiful!
June 1st, 2010 @ 8:41 pm
Thank you for sharing this.
Give me a chance to look back — I’ll get back to you.
June 2nd, 2010 @ 10:56 am
wow. amazing.
June 2nd, 2010 @ 6:16 pm
That’s pretty cool! I do have a drawing my older son & I did together (tracing our hands) the day after my younger son was conceived as it turned out. Kind of cool to look back & know that #2 was on his way while I was only aware of #1.
June 3rd, 2010 @ 12:07 am
amazing.
i was looking back at some old posts the other day and found one…
“When I was in Mommies tummy I could see out.” Little L says.
“How could you see?” Hubby asked.
“Through her belly button.” Little L answered.
that’s my youngest. i love the things they tell us about before they were born. or how they got here.
my little brother used to be sure that he was a star, looking down at us, watching, until he fell into my mom’s tummy. there really may be something to that…