Popcorn Belly

Popcorn flutters grow in my belly,

dance to the rhythm

of my breath, my blood, my movement;

you knock softly at first, waiting for an answer.

Soon, you will grow impatient

no longer satisfied with hearing shadows,

ever more insistent to see the world beyond.

You know without knowing,

the urgency of the journey

upon which you are about to embark.

I hold the breadth of my belly

as I feel you talking to me;

I dance to your tiny rhythm,

throw back my head, and laugh.

©1999 Donna Jo Wallace

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Poet's Note: Here's a little non-sequitur shared from the year that I was pregnant. I loved being pregnant. dw

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