“Womb” by Zinnia Hansen
September 14, 2021
Do you remember when that tickling in our stomachs had a name?
It was called God.
The flowers bloomed to God’s rhythm and we danced in our underwear.
Our families burned weed and bras and incense and dollar bills.
They used history as kindling and smoked out the stars.
But we didn’t need to misinterpret Rumi to converse with the Beloved,
we were formed inside of Her.
We were drum-circle children, raised in an undulating womb.
Now, my friends Bible-bash with Nietzsche.
Jesus is the cigarette butt of their nihilistic jokes.
I am not a Christian, mais je suis chrétienne.
I venerate Beeswax Candles and Hildegard and Fragrant Oil.
I find the hungry-void counterproductive, so I take communion
and feed the God growing in my belly.
Let’s sit on the covered steps on our front porch and watch the rain.
Let’s watch the earth dance in Her underwear.
Falling water is precious
now the clouds have become pregnant with tear-gas and idealism.
Let the rain pour down! Let us take shelter in our temples!
The 2021/22 Seattle Youth Poet Laureate, Zinnia Hansen, read this poem to open our 2021/22 Women You Need to Know (WYNK) Series event with Maggie Nelson on Tuesday, September 14, 2021. Learn more about SAL’s Youth Poet Laureate program here.