A baby

Probably many women my biological age dream of having a baby. Not out of fear of loneliness in the elderly days nor out of  “I want to leave something behind in order to mean something”, but out of pure creation instinct.  These days I feel it too. It’s like a bright and loving invitation to bring new life into the world. And also a warning (there’s a dark side to every moon), that if I don’t do it, my existence will be pointless and this karmic life would be wasted.

So how do I do it? I am not in THAT KIND of a relationship. But I want to give birth and I even have the name ready. My baby lives in me already. It doesn’t have a human shape, I know, it still needs to be formed, it’s merely an idea. It speaks to me in my head though and we connect. It’s beautiful love.

Now I just need to find a partner in art. Put myself out there. Send applications or go to meetings of THAT KIND. And I’ll be fine if I am not craved by many. I would be happy to find only one person to share my feelings.

My baby is a book of poetry. It’s first time in my life that I want to, as they say in Spanish, dar a luz (give to light) something that is tangible, a being that has a front page and covers. Wouldn’t that be a miracle? There’s a competition for amateur poets due in 2 days, and I want to participate. I am excited as before the most expected date ever!