A belly full of sunrises
I lift myself heavy off the floor
My legs overflowing with full moon dancing
I try to carry these squirming
Kicking
Tomorrows
To a world so desperately in need
Of hope
The weeks turned to years
I carry through so much spinning
The only constant
Is me
The world paints itself grey
Not in sadness
But in sameness
No longer enamored
By the sweet feeling
Of tomorrow’s foot resting
On my rib
The fog hugs the weight of me
Hiding the horizon from view
Where shall I plant these tomorrows?
I turn my eyes to the womb that surrounds me
Endless space
Eternal starlight
Where shall I lay the dawn to rise?
The Eye of the Needle 