The stretch-marks on her mother’s stomach
are like the wind’s markings on a sandy beach.
Stroking the fine hair on her upper belly,
stamped with the foot-prints of a baby crab,
she asks:
Amma,
How did you give birth and survive?
What’s so marvellous in that?
Think of your granny’s granny,
who gave birth to the entire world.
The little girl falls asleep
thinking of her grandmother,
giving birth to the whole wide world,
like a hen laying an egg.
In her dream she becomes
snow-storm and raging wave,
joyous stream and feasting forest,
and great exploding volcano.