Cradling contradictions


I write my own story

I create

delivering a composition

of myriad emotions

cocooned in me

my blood and insides

a twisted tale which

descends into depths

of union, of ecstasy

a forceful passage

dark tunnels fiercely

contracting into voids

an abundant first cry

delivered with respite

I give birth

to significance

I give birth

am exorcised of

pain, and shame

I give birth

to begin again

reborn into

my cyclical

ability to refresh



Part 1 – At Birth

is the child coincidental?

to  the deepest moment of love ..maybe lust!

the curled toes

the tightly shut eyes

the pursed lips

churns your blood with a warmth

deeper than you have ever embraced

chills your spine with a current

stronger than any you have ever survived

in a daze

you walk across the threshold

and into the door of parenthood

The sign reads –

“buckle up! it’s an amazing long ride”


Part 2 – Growing up, us

During your growing up

Growing up, and older is about detachment

Easier said than done though

The patter of your baby’s first steps

The unabashed pleasure at the toddler’s antics

The acoustics of teenage chatter

Being symphony to your ears

Replaced and refreshed now

Balanced with the sounds, sights and smells

Of the broader world, a world not as narrow

Such that your children

Are now an extension of your ecosystem

Rather than the center of it

It is a freedom of sorts

Freedom from many compelling obsessions

That is every mother’s woe and pride

Of wanting to be present in and make note of every milestone

Or what you assumed were global events at that time

the eyeball move

the baby bum lift

the first step

the changing smell of the potty

the pa’s and the ba’s

the smile or what you thought was one

the sticky first kiss

the sloppy attempt at poetry

the colors and form that became the art work

the handclasp and the finger grasp

the voice breaking at puberty

the announcement of the first period

the prom preparation

the first tie knot

the drama and the debates

Waking up one morning

Looking into the mirror

I see

Two clumsy adults

out there owning the world

Conquering, defeating, being beaten, wondering, doubting, loving and discovering

The transition has occurred and is happening now

The pleasure is immense

And as I turn away from the mirror

Gently patting my eyes

Just so the kajal stays in place

I know

I received these human’s as gifts

To hold and deliver into the world

Playing my brushstrokes

and filling in the colors over the years

That was how it was always meant to be

I was told very clearly that birthing, is not about replacing

Yet I do want to ask

Can I hold you, carry you, kiss you, hug you

One more time so I can bottle that smell, that warmth, the tender smile

I promise not to ask again

I promise to be standing right here when and if you need me

As well for those you bring into your lives


Neatly bottled for you and those you love

Will be the alchemy that works when all else fails

In an inexhaustible supply, and from that irreplaceable recipe

my confidence, care, and courage

my bones, my flesh, my blood


Part 3

Playing Host

Hosting you for 9 months

The beginning of you starts with the sky

Pouring itself into my womb

With a thumping palette comprising

Of shades that transcend over 

Nine months 

The conversation starts as you settle in, one

Moving on to a sonnet of meditation, two

Salvaging doubtful nausea, into glowing cheekbones, three

We both partner in the architecture of you, four

Visible to the world by now, we relish the attention, five

I live inside of you, as you move within me, six

Conceived in dreams, you pulsate with developing form, seven

Preparing to pause, I embrace the flutter in my belly, eight

With a swaggering stride, I bring you into the world, nine

And I repeat to myself, my prayer for you

One that wishes for you 

a substantial life

stained glass in the summer

frosted windowpanes in the snow

and crunching embers of the fall

tears that leave salty leftover hugs

smiles which pour laughter into heartbreaks

fear that trembles into your confidence

family demanding you to run for cover

a mirror reflecting to you your ugliest flaws

and as I repeated the prayer


You broke into the world, delivered

Into my heart with all that is the start of you

The start of you

an end to nine tumultuous months

months where I fell in love with you

a guest embracing my womb

The start of a new musing

as it negotiates

its way into me

I yearn for us to begin, again 

I feel your gnarly fingers clasping my breast

I sense your sticky eyelashes, tickle my face

I write my own story

I give birth

to begin again

reborn into

my cyclical

ability to refresh



Published by Kashiana

I am a management professional by job classification and a work practitioner by personal preference. One poetry collection - Shelling Peanuts and Stringing Words and a chapbook, Crushed Anthills. Always gathering poems, and letting them marinate and change shape and form.

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