Eclipse

Shadows & sunshine

Photo by Jason Howell on Unsplash

The pregnancy app showed me how to compare 
produce to my baby's growth progression,
And the cervical dilation chart depicted my body’s opening
to accommodate the baby’s passage into the world

But nobody told me what glasses to wear
In the eclipse moments of postpartum
When the air gets eerie with premonitions and anxiety
And the future looks stormy and scary

An odd sensation flutters in my chest 
as my organs hold a collective breath
In the shadows, my mind murmurs 
maybe the world really IS going to end

I stand on a grassy patch behind our library
For the solar eclipse
And watch the moon cover the sun
With the same people I processed postpartum with

The women who showed up,
responding to my panicky texts,
Folding laundry mountains with me,
Eat celebratory brunches at my table 

I marvel at the way 
the sun makes a fabulous diamond ring
As she comes out to greet us with her warmth again,
She's committed

To smiling down on the kids running around giggling
And to seeing the mamas through to sanity
 
I push a stroller back home
Navigating broken concrete sidewalks
And noticing tiny purple flowers,
we stop at the hot pink ice cream shop

Because a Monday afternoon / an eclipse / community are calls for celebration

My tongue tastes the coconut ice cream
And my lips toss out chatter
But my heart? 
She celebrates the reminder that

Penumbras, both seen and unseen, are temporary.