[A lovely meditation on birth & death by Carmen Leone—or I should say, “births & deaths”]
The Moments I Was Born
I never knew the moments I was born.
I knew they happened, but cannot recall
the place, the day, the time, the circumstance,
I never knew the moments that I died,
if they were just before I came to life
again, or if there was a kind of gap
where time just stopped and waited to resume.
Perhaps they weren’t moments after all.
Perhaps they came not like a hammer blow
but slowly, oozing in between the toes
and rising inch by inch, and lifting me
until I floated, lazily, and watched
the clouds of people slowly rolling by.
Perhaps there’s been no hint of life between
but only birth and death and birth again.
© to the author