The relevance of Children

Is this what I want
Is this what I want?
Produce children
Who will bear my poor eyesight
My imperfections, my inadequacies
My idiosyncrasies
Who will be bound to me
For I will not let them go
And when they think they do
I will know with grim satisfaction
I have clothed their spirits in flesh
And for that alone
Though the chain may be long as antipodes
It is incorruptible and
I am not letting go…

Children to do some vulnerability-watching again
And hate it
Again
Theirs, mine, my awful new vulnerability
That comes from having a vital organ
Outside my body
Who may die when I am not looking
And then what -

Have children and learn the fierceness
The violence of that love, possession
Hatred
Hatred for making me so utterly theirs
And yet not being perfect
Not being able to ever hurt them
Bringing them forth to an aquarium of racism
Injustice
Inequality
And not leaving them out of the fight.

Find the point.
What is the point?
What is my need to summon you here
To make my life make sense around you ?

I have been made utterly responsible for it
I have been made utterly responsible for it

And as every decision may -and should - be questioned
For purpose, meaning, degree of necessity
Even sugar cravings and even love
Thus I question this
What got into me to bring you into being?

You got into me.

You that we created from the rawest materials ever
Ourselves
Nothing else
And yet
You who are ours even less than
The furthest stars of the galaxy
Why?
What was the necessity
The twisted desire?
Is it like faith, that you may have it
And yet not understand or want it?
I still fight it, tooth and claw
For I know that when you come
I will be overwhelmed by you
And not question it again

Both me(s) will think the other one deluded
A prisoner of madness
What my dream personae are to me
Or vice versa.
We will ignore each other
But I foresee a time coming
When I will need the answers
Of my frantic angry younger self
The answers of the seeker
Appeased by logic, meaning and sense
Appeased by the masculine
An island in my ocean of motherhood,
Nurturing which is self-explanatory

I still do not understand why I would want this
My body a slave to yours
My life a slave to yours
My life which is now slowly become
Scrumptious magnificent fit to breathe
After pain and effort and madness and death
And you would send me back
To those who know better
They would shackle me again
In their bonds of propriety
For you need propriety to raise a child
I need to know
I need my own stronghold
For my life
For child raising
Where we’ll be like us
Where we won’t be like them
And be safe
Don’t you see, we’re both running away from them
But I run much faster without you
So you’ll have to come later
When I can
When we can

I want the world to be safe for both of us
So for now it will just be me
I’ll find the place
And build it
And imagine it
Paint it grow it mold it
And when it’s grown beautiful
I may feel an ache, an emptiness
A remembrance that you haven’t come yet
A remembrance the garden can’t be perfect without a child
And that’s why Eden was so wrong
Forever unblessed, forlorn
From the laughter of children
I will remember then, maybe
The point of the garden.
It would be no real garden
If it were unfit for children
May the whole world become such a place
One day
I want you to come with the blossoms
Of the trees that I planted
But don’t make me sprout
Don’t make me sprout
Before my season