Friday, May 21, 2010
I am not yet born; I beg you pause to hear me.
Let not the greedy or guilty come near me.
I am not yet born; I beg you, console me.
I fear the human race may build high walls
to hold me - or keep me out,
and with lying calls
lure me to danger about.
I am not yet born; I ask of you
a white light in my mind
to guide me.
with water and flowers each day
I am not yet born; look close and forgive me.
Forgive me for the sins that in me, the world will commit.
Forgive my words when they speak me,
my thoughts when they think me,
my life when they live me,
my death when they kill
using my hands
in unholy lands
to keep hearts still.
I am not yet born; I beg you, teach me.
Teach me in the ways of the parts I must play
when old men scold me
in the hour of the day
when mountains will turn from me
and all lovers spurn me,
when the sea foam seeks to churn me
conspiring to drown and
I am not yet born; watch for me
when ugliness would steal me
from anything as grand as my gift to a beggar
who refuses it from my hand.
when the desert calls me to doom
too soon, and I stand
with my own children.
Help and rehearse me,
as they ready themselves to now curse me.
I am not yet born; I beg you, hear me.
Let not the beast who thinks himself God
come near me.
I am not yet born; O fill me
with strength against those
who would freeze my humanity
rage against my sanity,
making me a mere face, a thing,
and like water in a hand,
Otherwise - kill me.
This is a fetus speaking to the disconnected living. It's a very deeply philosophical poem, and I used the basic framework idea after reading a poem by Louis MacNeice. I kept his ideation of the unprotected life which knows it will soon enter fierce, strange, harsh, gray violently miraculous waters of life, and we who are still asking WHAT IS IT? If people could define it, they'd understand when it starts, an unborn human would be considered true life, untouchable and sacrosanct if only because it exists. Anything, to my mind, which acts alive, IS. A cell that makes its first division, is living. It acts and moves on its own genetic instructions. And when life is removed, it's our biggest crime against ourselves, in my humble opinion. Many might counter with tales of how some babies would enter the world - products of rape or incest, disease, true horrors. I would only ask one thing:
How does that make them any less a life?
Thank you in advance for your honest personal views.
Posted by Cathy at 7:52 PM