Some of us who wait,

bellies full of dawn,

some leaf through the research, dig through the lore, the impressions of the past, the promises of the future…

I do none of these things. I don’t know why not.

I wait only.

I sit with dawn swelling my belly,

so large I cannot fold in on myself, my heart is forced open

I cannot even slouch in exhaustion

I did not know that pregnancy would force me upright, even as I lumber

So full, inspired, tired

I sit, I stand, I wonder

But I cannot slouch and study

I do not think, decide, or plan

I do not look or learn the lore, except what drifts from the mouths of grandmothers, what floats into my dreams from our stories

I wait, and I breathe.