by Daphne Carter McKnight

“A Matter of Time” was written for “Ain’t I a Woman”. Although it’s dedicated to women who have not had a baby, it’s relevant to anyone who has an idea waiting to be born.

Out of time/Right on time/Just in time/Not this time
My time/Changing times/In the nick of time/A stitch in time
The first time, every time/One more time/Hard times
Revolution time/Evolution time/Liberation time/Nation time
Remember the time?/Maybe the last time/Time in a bottle
Time and the tide/Anytime but baby time
Now the time has turned it’s back on me.

Time was when time was all there was
And the times they were changing.
Ripe as July pomegranates
the world was ours.
Once in a lifetime chance
for growing times knowing times
Fast times rash times.
Bad timing was the choice we had
And we maybe chose maybe the next time
Because all time was on our side.
“When is my time,” the tiny voice asked.
Some other time, we answered
Some of us have been/are still there.

We sometimes tremble about the trying times
Trying time after time after time.
After a time we’re told our softest parts are broken.
Maybe this time after maybe enough time
a seed will grow. Maybe this time
I’ll get to know your face
Feel you wrap your fingers around mine
Offer my breast my life my time.
Pray the Goddess grants the time
this time to bring you through.

We some of us remember each last still time
When time stood still as the one we held
In the little blanket the too-big cap,
icy fingers tiny as matchsticks.
Knowing again, not this time.

Or we ride the night time nightmare again
Full gallop through that awful time.
Time flashed before us and
We thought our time was done.
Out of body Out of time.
Maybe time does heal the hurt bruised flesh
flush putrid sweat from our skin
flush the tainted seed from our body
Until only the memory grows sloshing through our mind
A grade-B movie in slow-mo.
Glad time to bad time to sad time to mad time to
There was a time when I used to dance.
There was a time…

Today we are one in this space this time
We women who are not mothers
All age all strong all sense and voices
Our hopes our prayers our lives and choices
We live we give we build and grow
In time we’re soothed in time
We know ourselves. By deeds
our names live on.
New chances come, some chances gone.
And always we move toward the light
Our choice to make our futures bright
In time.

© Daphne Carter McKnight
June 1, 2008