If I Wanted Comfort

Sitting in a circle of strong women
I whistle at the stockpile of chatter
and steep emotions that burns
yellow and bright flames
in each belly.

Each belly that has birthed a child
from the chaos of wisdom
clanging loudly in order to find comfort
in the skin to skin human experience
of mother and child at the breast.

The skin is the largest organ of the body
sensing everything from storms and sticky summer heat
to the cool breeze of love gone from our sight.
and the mouth of a child looking for her source of life.

If I wanted comfort
I would walk with my face to the wind
knowing that the way home
might be easier.

Instead, I will clear the mind
like a slate washed clean of yellow chalk
that traced the shape of problems solved
and words too precious to repeat.