Dweller in an inland sea,
Murky swell of salt and cells,
The lone inhabitant, she.
First fish, then not,
Changes wrought,
Upon her form render her,
In-between.
Intrepid voyager,
Earth’s walking spawn,
She traverses eons,
In a single, violent, moment.
Tossed from turbid ocean,
To hostile shore,
As when her first ancestor,
Gasped and flopped upon cruel land.
You cry, are dried,
Are placed in tired, triumphant arms.
Still you keen other-earthly sorrow,
Unsolaced by the clucks and coos,
Of those who no longer remember:
The cold, cold air—The agonized breath,
Pulled with pain into lungs so new,
The balance in which each hangs for an eternal instant,
With ashen face, and waxen limp limbs.
Until the chest heaves, the heart skips,
Then settles again into its staccato, bounding beat.
Turning you, oh fortunate one, a lusty, dusky red,
Announcing that the scales have tipped towards life.
But soon you too will take the breast,
And forget.
January 19, 2010