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 Maxwell is the author of four novels, 2165 Hillside, The Month After September, Thomas, and The Sex and Dope Show Saga; a novella, And Baby Makes Two; four memoirs, Naked Ink, Diary of a Smalltown Boy, Vol. 1 & 2, 1973—Early Applause, 1977—The Year of Leaving Monsieur, and 1983—The Unknown Season; as well as a poetry collection, Homogium. You can find more by visiting his website and blog at:
Ephemeral Elegies 
‘Life, old age, sickness & death’. Brilliantly illuminated, i.e., you could feel it as you read about it. Ouch.
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Reblogged this on penwithlit and commented:
Interesting rebirthing experiences here- echoes of Reich and New Age psychology perhaps?
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