Amniotic Love


We crawled from the sea onto dry land, and metamorphosed. Now? We grow, tiny oceanic creatures, in the water created within our mothers’ wombs. Budding arms and legs wave, like seaweed fronds, inside the watery sac. Our vast heads and cavernous eyes learn the song of the deep as liquid safety roars in time with the rhythmic maternal heart-drum.

Water sings of the West, of emotion, of feelings we cannot always express. As foetuses we learn, through our burgeoning bodies, the elemental lessons of what it means to be human, to float in wetness, to touch our own earthy flesh, to feel the warmth of our protector’s fiery blood.

Water surrounds us from our earliest inception. We gravitate towards it throughout our lives – and, at the end, it is part of the chemical genius which breaks us down into our component elemental parts.

Started by the alchemy of sperm fired from passion’s fleshly gun and met by the undulating dance of the egg, we develop in an atmosphere of amniotic innocence.

Born, grown, our withheld emotions rise, tsunami-like in their power, and can wreak terrible destruction. Our bodies leak coloured water all the time: Blood, sweat, tears, waste.

Precious little beings flexing tiny muscles in their sacs! How we take them for granted! How we dismiss them and treat them as if their differences defined them! Forgetting, in our frenzy of prejudice, that we all were once suspended in that thrumming world of amniotic love.

We are water.


9 thoughts on “Amniotic Love

  1. Darcy

    Have you read a wonderful prose poem called House of Incest by Anais Nin? I fell in love with its water/womb passages at the impressionable age of 19. This post just brought it back. (It is not about literal incest).

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Julie

    Ok. I read this piece as a projection of your dream-like inner self. Which suggests to me that maybe you would feel at home living on a barge or by the sea…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Julie

    Love is not water, amniotic or otherwise…
    Maybe the majority of foetuses have been conceived in ignorance, selfishness, arrogance, anger or just lust… Love is a rare luxury in the world.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. alienorajt

      In the literal sense, of course it isn’t! But sometimes, these channelled pieces of mine (for want of a better word!) demand their own logic and symbolism and hark back to an older way of looking at things, I guess! The image related to the connection between water and emotion and took a left turn! xx

      Liked by 2 people

  4. The paragraph about the fleshly gun created quite a contrast! Innocence in the same paragraph as a weapon description. (Unfortunately I feel that some “men” do use the fleshly gun as a weapon rather than a consensual alchemist.)

    Liked by 2 people

    1. alienorajt

      ‘Consensual alchemist’ is brilliant, Noah: I love it! I hadn’t consciously clocked the contrast – thank you for pointing it out. With these channelled pieces, it is as if I allow someone else to take over for a while, and I often don’t remember what I have actually written afterwards! xx


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