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.