Water

The first water is the body

I carry you in my body:
you, defender of the sacred, lover of water.

My water moves through me
a lifeline, a flow.
Sometimes no more than a trickle
and sometimes a torrent.

It's agony and ecstasy,
pleasure and pain.

I think of the women of this land,
the keepers of the wells.
The knowledge we once cherished.

The water of the land should be 
tended, worshiped, minded,
and women the ones to do it.

Our rivers are goddesses
Boyne for Boinne, water and milk,
sacred cows and galaxies.

And fluid is my favourite state:
to shapeshift 
to take on new forms, still wholly oneself
is a gift.

Women are amazing.  
Curious child to compliant adult,
rebel mother to wise elder - 
so many permutations but always,
always, ourselves.

The Earth as mother, maiden crone
makes sense to me on a cellular level - beyond intellect - 
a felt sense.

Her waters of agony and ecstasy,
pleasure and pain.
They are for us.

There can be no life without river,
but there can also be no river without life.
We need each other to live most fully.

So, I carry you in my body,
and I feel you carry me in yours.

The crystal clear waters of Schull, West Cork

Thank you to Samrinder Atwal for introducing me to this stunning piece of writing by Natalie Diaz which prompted my own musings on water and bodies.