I caught you standing in front of the mirror, with your shirt lifted up. I watched you watch yourself, and I felt many things. Most of all, I felt wonder.
Your stomach looked like a globe. Round. Spotted. Uneven, like the map-man had run out of ink in some places, or pressed down too hard at others. Amma, you contain nations.
A thin coat of melanin covers that sphere. But when I look closely, I see the green of trees, the blue of oceans and the red of love.
Somewhere in that ball, you are home to the sun, moon and stars-the celestial circle of life.
You are glorious.
Do not worry when you pull your shirt down, and see it stretch over the bulge. I walked out of there once but-instead of leaving you empty, I left you full.
Amma, in your girth
Lies the birth
Via Daily Prompt: Glorious