Jacuzzi
Warm and safe,
womb waters whirling,
drifting me through time,
eyes closed, and space.
Amniotic, this liquid,
rocking me to the throb
of my mother’s heart.
I close my eyes.
The walls around me
open out to reveal
the sun by day,
the stars by night.
The full moon:
a golden circle
beaming down.
My mother’s face
hangs in space
above me
…
and me:
re-born.
Raw Poem:
I wrote this lying in the jacuzzi about an hour ago. It’s not just a raw poem, it’s a very raw poem. There’s something comforting about it, though, and I like the in and out of reality moments. It’s good to remember my mother, too, especially in the image of the full moon in all its plenitude and beauty.
“and me: re-born” — the small circle in the centre of the Mexican pottery mask is the symbol of the seed of the new born babe. The mask goes full circle, from birth, to beauty, to old age, and death … a full moon cycle.
rogermoorepoet 
Very comforting and soothing indeed! I love the raw poetry.
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I think my Jacuzzi has sprung a leak. There’ll be no more Jacuzzi poems until we get the plumber round. And we need to get rid of this storm first. Storm: it’s now officially a blizzard. Snowmageddon, my friend Chuck calls it. I’ll post some more pictures soon.
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Wow! Fingers crossed for your safety and security!
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We’ll survive … somehow … we’ll be fine if we don’t lose the power. You’d better check today’s post, too. There’s a message there for you.. and a dedication.
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Be right there!
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I love it, Roger. It just flows from within.
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Thank you, Tanya: from within and from those waters bubbling and flowing all round me. Such safety: such comfort: so many memories.
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Best kind of memory…
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Heartfelt
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Thank you. Raw it is, but it certainly has something. Heartfelt is a nice description.
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