Poem: Birthing

Birthing.

Where do we come from?

We ponder,

Tranquil,

A candid spirit.

Before we know it,

We're born on this earth.

A waiting mentor,

A dash of agitation in our bosom,

Plunging sensation in our stomach,

Gritting our teeth.

We fall apart when we're slack,

Then we recover in victory,

In joy.

Restoration is genuinely contradictory.

Our route to revival brings us to the immediate instant,

Every time.

It's consistent with our simple breathing we notice.

A puppy howling,

A gentle giggle of an infant,

A warm drink with a confidant.

Life depicted on the bright canvas of our cognizance.

No matter how preoccupied we seem or how far off we veer,

All thoughts,

Feelings,

Yearnings are simply fluctuations in our psyche.

Fortitude.

We embrace the here and now.

We revive.

We commence afresh.

We remember an existent,

Mysterious force,

Greater than ourselves,

Carrying us,

Withholding us,

Sustaining us.

An entity so immense,

Enigmatic,

And bountiful.