2000/heaviness

Heaviness in my stomach
after honey and toast.
I read that I should meditate
on wrathful deities
in order to shed my Kapha bulk.
Instead I imagine a divine mother
grandmotherly and round.
a likely consort, I suppose,
for the white-haired father
on a throne.
The sweet, affable woman
married to a mean man,
who grows rounder & rounder
through the years.
It occurs to me she couldn’t do
the things I imagine,
except with the twitch of a nose.
Her obesity would make her huff
and puff.
The way I felt the other day
in the garden,
my denim skirt too tight to bend.
I have not yet let go of winter.
Or the image of the motherly lap
when I am weary as a grumpy child.
I think my feminine divine should lift weights.
Have the strength to hold her own,
without looking too masculine, of course.
I think we have a way of becoming
what we need, at least I do.
Stuck so long seeking nurture,
that all other needs have been left unmet.
The need to be the one to lift myself up
from the mud, to snatch me from the street.
My father carried me into first grade
because of mud.
It was the only time I remember him being
like that.
Perhaps I wore new shoes that needed protection.
In any event I failed to take on that warrior,
protector role. At least toward myself.
Perhaps if I meditate on Kali, the ferocious mother,
it will come.

3/16/00