The Womb's Lullaby Poem by Thomas Case

I first heard the
lullaby in the
womb.
It has a pulse,
and a rhythm.
It was embedded in
my tissue and cells.
And when I was shot out,
bloody and naked,
the cord was
cut.
The journey began.

At four years old,
I remember closing
my eyes, and lying
down to go to sleep,
it felt like I was
being rocked.
I wonder if the
subconscious mind is
remembering the
rhythm of the womb.
My Mom- pregnant with me,
walking upstairs- walking downstairs,
elevators
escalators
movement
pulse,
the eternal lullaby of
the womb.
When I closed my
eyes, it felt like I
was being rocked.
It felt like I
was in a swing,
back and forth,
easy like a fragrant
spring night.

I feel and hear the
pulse- the rhythm,
the heart in everything!
In footsteps- in the wind,
in the ancient river
in the mermaids song,
I feel it in
the beating of the hummingbird's
wings- I see it in
Van Gogh's jagged sky,
in the flight pattern of
the wasp.

There is a rhythm in
death and birth and love.
Oh my God...the rapture of
the rhythm of love and
joy- so sublime...
The primal beat of a
heartbreak- PAIN,
like painting with
blood.
So real
too lucid.
Icarus, lets fly into the
sun, drunk on
cheap vodka or wine.
We'll escape- liquid smooth,
until our wings melt,
and we fall back down,
CRASH-
to the pulse, the rhythm,
the beat.

Bum Bum

Bum Bum

Bum Bum

Sometimes, I wish I were
a rock.