They are big hips that give birth to a child. They are generous hips that cradle the unborn with definiteness and steel limbs. The hips take their space from the place in the heart and in the soles of the feet. The hips move in orbit around the child as they walk and bend and sit and dance and . . . other things. Inside, a babe will roll and swim and listen and hear. The hips keep up their pressure and the child continues to grow. One day the child will be strong enough be born, through the hips of the mother, into the cradle of the world.
This is a piece in tribute to Lucille Clifton’s poem “In Tribute to My Hips,” and in loving homage to my own children, who remind me frequently that they love me. I am a very fortunate individual indeed.