The True Birth

  Sometimes, in the quietest hours of the night, when the world tucks away its noisy outlines, I return to the beginning. I think of that primal act by which we enter reality. We are born physically, passing through the narrow, suffocating passage of flesh, through that first dark tunnel that knows neither words nor thoughts, only blind trust, pressure, and an irresistible, cruel direction forward. But more and more often, I think that this is only the beginning of a much longer birth. That our entire life in this physical dimension is not a state of completion, but a continuing birthing process, simply in another form. All the walls we crash into as we walk through our days. All the pains that have forced us into silence. All the wounds, resistances, contradictions, and limitations—they are not punishment, nor are they accidents. They are our ongoing labor pains. This is a spiritual passage through the narrowness of human existence. The truth that shines through the veil of the ...

Alone

 


Alone in my captivity, lost in despair,
I wander, dragging my garments in air.
The weight of it all, crushing me down,
In myself, time's stopped, in silence I drown.
In timeless childhood, stolen breath by breath,
In soulful fields, where I take flight in death.
I soar and return, fueled by desire,
In dreams awakened, here I lie, a crier.
I've lost myself in my realm's dominion,
In ceaseless seeking, my relentless opinion.
Day and night blend in their passionless fight,
For my smile to bring peaceful light.
But peace in the burden, aching and sore,
A sickness from war's loads, my being tore.
Where did I lose myself, once content and calm?
In heaven's embrace, I gave up my qualm.
The birth of rain in love's tender spell,
I hide from it, run and dwell.
For it, I divide myself untroubled,
In its magic, my heart's bubbles.
The dawn of morning's feeling's here,
I return, love, seeing me clear.
I am her reflection, and she'll see me tomorrow,
I move the pieces of myself in my sorrow.
Locked, shut, torn apart and divided,
Forgotten, discarded, torn and derided.
Alone and weeping, powerless, still,
Torn apart, hopeless, with hope killed.
Will I find myself again, I wonder?
To connect my disjointed pieces and ponder.
I'll make my move and win this game,
In boundless unity, I'll know my name.
The only feeling is pain, I breathe it deep,
Accepting it, in its mission I leap.
Tasting it, feeling it, I am it, I love it,
I give birth to it, in my seeking, I covet.
Overflowing, intertwining, enclosing, I ache,
Unraveling, separating, in pouring, I wake.
From myself to myself, let it happen, I'm eternal,
In remembrance, discovered, loved, I'm internal.
Blind in seeing, in sensations, I age,
In whispers of soft words, I engage.
I commit ceaselessly to my finding, I reign,
And here, on eternity's doorstep, I'll gain.
Love, in timelessness, clad in its attire,
Wordless, silent, speaks to me in mire.
Hopelessness, impossibility, swiftly embrace,
Forgotten, alone, in soul's understanding's grace.

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