Unborn Poem by Julia Woodman

'Under The Surface / Her Body Is Curled, / Seed Of The One Race, / Shell Of The World. // She Is The Waterfall, / She Is The Womb, / She Is The Bubble, / She Is The Tomb. // Her Hair Flows Upward, / Blood Red Of The Birth. / Her Arms Are Folded / Deep Into The Earth. // She Is The Fern, / She Is The Bark, / She Is The Lantern, / She Is The Dark. // Her Eyes Burn The Flame / Of The Old And The Young. / Her Breath Is The Name / Of Each Branch Of Each Lung. // She Is The Ingredient. / She Is The Blend. / She Is The Beginning. / She Is The End.'