Poem by Jim Culleny

Womb of Being

Here I am, in it,
curled as you are,
as all are who breathe.

I found myself here, not by my choice
but by that of something other. So, I’m here
wondering how you interpret the
mystery of it —not its biology,
but the phenomenology of it,
the cloud of meanings of its
textures and structures, the
before, now, and after of it, the
all-and-what’s-next of it
curled as we are in this
womb of now, waiting,
anticipating new birth
in a next moment, waiting
to be thrust beyond by the
pulsations of past moments.

Jim Culleny, 6/21/26

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