Opal Wings

Mother

On this occasion. The first Friday of the month of May. I conceived a baby girl. My baby was born into quicksand. I’ve always thought it would be relaxing. It’s very relaxing being stuck. In quicksand, in molasses, in my mind or even in yours. 

My baby girl will never be a bird, just like her father, and me, I never flew. Happy being stuck in your arms where it's safe. Trapped in gum, under the tide. The second my cord was cut I was thrown into the sky. 

“Put me back!!” I wailed to the midwife.

“I'm scared, this air is choking me.” I saw out the hospital window that this life was too fucked up. Newborns like me need time to accept the air. Get used to pitty, feel stuck for a moment in time.

My baby girl was born in quicksand. She needs time, like her father, like me. Like my mother who, despite this, threw me far. She was disillusioned. My dad, a man of flesh and blood. My mom, a paper mache skeleton, and now me, a pocket of sunlight for my baby to nourish herself. 

When my girl was born they called the police. They grabbed her legs and tried to pull her from the sand trap. But in I went too. It's very relaxing being stuck.

I put my all into this baby. She rode on my shoulders before she was even born. She cried too, I could hear her in the womb mourning. I could hear her screams. I ate well, I read stories of pirates and sea men who pillage and take, to show her what she's not. I sweat out my toxic waters and absorbed a clean wet feeling and emotion. I put my all into this child, so that maybe she wouldn't be me. I cried when I felt her tears, I put my all into this child. 

When she sunk I sunk too. We don’t get the choice of birth we deserve. We can’t say “Put me back, I’m scared” “scared of what?” that doctors would say, but of course they would, because they are grown and have it figured out. The air no longer stings and gods fingers don't have his grasp over their mouths. They live free to speak and laugh, they know how to get by. And when you're little all you know is that god's fingers have you in a chokehold and you might just die. 

When she came out a feeling of self- reproach and woe overtook me, I had made from clay a me, who would grow to be them and ache all night and wear black coats in the sun. Her fall was hard and swift. She plopped from my body like a watermelon rind, empty all as hell, but heavy like a bowling ball. I felt regret and shame and this was my child. So I felt more. I got dragged into the quicksand with her, my cord pulling me deep into the pit. And we were together for hours, days, months, not knowing and being engulfed. My baby grew a brain and followed me through the abyss. I wondered “Have I made the right choice?”

Baby Girl 

When I was born into the world above, I had no time for thoughts, I was barrelling, straight away, deep into the heart of the earth. I felt the fall and yanked my mom down with me. We fell together and she cradled me during the fall. When we hit the ground, the very center, it was like my mind cleared. A fog lifted. Here we were, me and my mother, and I had so much to say. But the time wasn't right. I followed her around to one dark corner over to the next. We trudged through sand into sand between sand and within it. 

Finally I spoke, “Mom, I need to show you something.” She was shocked as if she didn't know I could speak, but of course, I have so much to tell, so much to teach. She crouched next to me, set a knee on the ground. “What is it baby?” “I think I know how to help you” I said “I think I know it all” I opened my mouth and at the very back end was a shining light that illuminated this sand hell. 

“I am a baby, I know no boundaries and have no fear. We have been sent down here so I can teach you, heal you, bring a spirit back to a body in need. I’m here to give you wings, so you may fly. You don’t want to be up there, so you're down here with me. And me, I don't want to be down here. I am not you, don't worry. You never needed to worry about me, I will grow and at the end of my life shrink again and I wont have you anymore. I will be my own person, you must not worry. Life experiences will shape me and so will you and you will be the best mother a baby girl could ask for. You will show me sun and fog. You will feed me love, do not worry. I love you mom, now lets go up. Lets see sun again, for I have never witnessed her rays and I’m dying to feel suns love as well as yours. I can’t stay away forever, you must let me see the world's injustice and work with it, mold it into something beautiful. You are my mother, I love you”

And she did sprout wings. She sprouted magnificent opal shining leaves from her back growing evermore by the second. She cried and scooped me up and ascended into the air. We broke surface and flew into the light and there, still standing confused as if no time had passed, were the cops, firefighters, paramedics, still mourning a lost mother and baby. They cheered when we erupted from the earth. They clapped and whooped. They knew we would be safe.

We were not safe above ground. This world makes a baby want to climb right back into the womb from which it came. All my thoughts and abilities went blank as soon as we breached the surface. I was now, a baby girl ready to grow and form herself and be formed. I am ready to feel the sun. I am ready for light. 

And so is my mother.