from the womb

sometimes
you just have to lie
in your own womb

by the empty ocean,
far away from a world
that cannot see
the man
in the woman
in the child,
huddled
into the moistness
of the ground
upon which
waves play
and dance
and die;
an ocean
who always loves you
as you love yourself,
who always fills you
as you fill yourself,
for she is the womb
from where
the new man,
in the new woman,
in the new child,
is born -
to wake up,
to walk,
and to move on.