I once lay in the shallows
of a deserted tropical isle
and let the ocean move me
like driftwood for about
a half hour or so.
Eyes closed and ears blocked
by saline plugs of seawater,
rolling and tumbling at times.
Then simply floating as if
untethered to life at others,
and it was as if I in those
perfect moments of isolation
was being reborn that day,
When the ocean spit me
at long last from her frothy womb,
with only seaweed as my umbilical,
I staggered up like a foal on spindly legs
into an understanding of the world
I had never before been able to grasp.
For in that time I heard a sound like the roar
one hears when a conch shell graces the ear
and recognized it as endless masses of voices
joined together in a single rush of noise.
All of the jubilee and the sorrow of mankind
the wails of the masses of old as they sigh
and moan along their pathway to the next life,
from ten's sure brightness, to tender nights, to tendinitis.
The middle-aged as they dream of the years lost,
humming old tunes that bring back memories,
dancing in their rocking chairs, sipping chai and just wishing.
The young adults as they shout ecstatically
at small victories achieved in their rise from innocence,
seizing the day, and the next as they excel .
The teens with a rebel scream of rebellion
tattooed on their permanent sneers and smiles,
rapping rhythmic rousing rabble relentlessly.
And the children as they giggle loudly
shrieking with sheer joy at all the possibilities life holds,
playing adult in their tiny worlds never knowing the cost.
And then the tiny babies as they wail and coo,
at all the pains and caresses life hands them,
the endless litany of things yet learned.
Then finally the unborn...some gurgling in
the amniotic bubble that keeps them in perfect peace,
and others in the anguish of a silent scream
as they are sucked or cut from all the layers
of infant/child/teen/adulthood/old, to simply become nevermore.
I can still hear it all even now, and ever so often it deafens me!
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