Myth
Today I heard a myth, but
I heard it yesterday too.
It’s been preached to me
since I exited the womb.
The first time I kneeled
in front of your image
I thought I saw your face.
When I would swing,
The wind blowing my hair,
the bounce of the swing
Dropping my stomach
into my legs. I thought
that the drop was your
spirit entering me,
proving that I was special.
Something told me I could
be next to hold you reincarnated within me. But as the years passed, my belly never swelled.
Now I’m forced to stop and think
about you, pondering if you ever were immaculately conceived.
All the stories I heard in school
The homeless man who
screamed on the street
started to make me see you
Just like a made up myth.
2 comments:
wow elizabeth, i love that poem. it totally encompasses my feelings which have been questioned lately due to the catholicism in the country and my companions. not only that but i can imagine you reciting the poem, the part about the belly swelling made me laugh. i miss you!!!
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