Interesting rebirthing experiences here- echoes of Reich and New Age psychology perhaps?
Do we remember that first cry we made, Having struggled to arrive amidst our mother’s screams, All that pushing and straining, yelling and groaning, That shift from the embryonic sac With its life-saving fluid, Into the world of breathing chaos? This bric-a-brac life with all its flavors, Untold tragedies and comedies that piled up Along the journey as we braved all the pitfalls Until old age appeared quite suddenly. Where did our childhood go, How did our youth escape us so readily? Those decades that brought middle age And the singsong onslaught of retirement. The advent of falling apart unwillingly, With diseases dangled before our very own eyes, Like a reflecting pool about to explode As we prepare for that final cry, That bursting forth into eternity.
About the Poet:
Tobias Maxwellis the author of four novels,2165 Hillside, The Month After September
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