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Heidi's avatar

There in the dark

A seed in the soil

Slowly grows, inch by inch

Cell divides, no light needed

A seed, an ovum, an egg

Pushes its way into a new

Version of itself:

When the babe knows its time to

Take up space and make its way out of

Its place for the past ten moons

The quiet of the womb is

Met with the bombardment of new sounds:

Familiar voice of mother, father, maybe brother or sister

A newcomer to this realm, an ordinary miracle.

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A. Wilder Westgate's avatar

Fifty-six years ago

in midwinter, my grandmother gave

birth to my mother.

Twenty-six years ago

in midwinter, my mother gave

birth to my sister.

Five years ago

in midwinter, I gave

birth to my daughter.

Fifty-nine years ago

in midsummer, my grandmother gave

birth to my aunt.

Thirty years ago

in midsummer, my mother gave

birth to me.

Two years ago

in midsummer, I gave

birth to my son.

We are connected

by generations

by seasons

by love,

and on

we go...

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