If I ever had a daughter her name would be Undula
from ‘unda’ in Latin meaning wave,
to move with a smooth wavelike motion
to rise and fall,
surge and swell,
heave and ripple,
billow flow and roll,
wind and wobble,
Of a leaf, to have a wavy surface or edge.
‘Undula’ is a wavelet
and when you pronounce her d softly like a j,
it gives a Hindi sound
Anja is a female name meaning grace
and also in Russian and Hungarian
though in the latter two it is pronounced Anya
instead of with the j
and means mother.
I’d name her Anya, if I ever had a daughter.
Tell me about giving birth.
Was it a surge, a swell, a heave?
And afterwards, did you sleep?
If I ever had a daughter her name would be Anja
In the Berber language Anja means rhythm or melody
related in sound to ‘onja’
meaning to taste, test, investigate
and if I ever had a daughter I would name her Onja
But I do have many daughters
my little Anjita grew up fast
her parents are the big ocean,
the big Unda and myself,
and we are constantly consummating
and therefore always pregnant.
Shall I marry her someday?
Does it matter?
But you can’t always be pregnant, right?
That can’t be good for a body.
I think of the cows.
The poor cows.
The Ocean has a deeper womb.
The Cosmos even deeper.
The Biggest Wave — the Unlimited Unda
And when the contractions come,
of course it’s going to hurt.
But those big wet undulations
on the first day of summer
the longest day
when light is king
and the giant wave of energy rushes
from within like a geyser
and bodily pours through like some deep howl
of anguish and joy
it can’t be contained
cue the grunting and face contortions
that face of giving birth
and the screams arrive out loud
for a change
and I worry the neighbors will hear
me giving birth
to my little undulitas