Challenge
Challenge of the Week CXCIX
From being encased by uterine fluid to the bright light of day one: Write a poem about being born.
New Breath
Be.
That is my purpose.
"Be."
I cannot see, I cannot speak.
My heartbeat speaks for me.
Ba-bum. Ba-bum.
I feel the fluid around me,
Warm. Home. Safe.
Ba-bum ba-bum.
Then I feel a rush of something cold.
Cold? What is cold?
And breath.
What is breath?
I open my mouth and I feel it smother me.
But it's good. It's comfortable.
I hear things. Things I've never heard before.
I smell things I've never smelled before.
I shriek at the top of my lungs.
But then I hear that special voice,
The one beneath organs and tissue and fluid
That called my name before it was mine.
I still shriek, but I now know,
That the name-voice is home.
With name-voice, I'm home.
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