(c) Patricia Isabel Lucido
VALS, 2021
The Birth
We are works in progress, in succession, in evolution
And into the world, we are forced
Thrust out of the mother's womb
We are newborn babes gasping for air
Alien swimmers in this foreign sea
Like the first fish on land, struggling
Question–do we breathe to live
Or do we live to breathe?
We come forth with a rumble and a shout
A wailing, fear-fury like a beast
And like beasts, all we see is night
Indecipherable entities, neither divine nor profane
We fear this bright, unknown world
Our raging outcry is a fearful scream
With tongues pressed invisible to our mouths
The first sound we make is a cry
Question–was this sound the basis of life?
But this is our natural state, our original state
The blind beast crawling on all fours
Howling at the hollow moon–bulbous lamplight
Shaped like the mother's breast
We cry out, cawing like crows above a man's head
An omen of what's to come, of what's to be
This is our life unending
It begins and continues, again and again–
Question–but only until when?
We are the products of love, they say
A love animalistic and all-consuming
Blinding, burning, lingering-in-the-mouths
We taste this on our tongues–their blood
Stronger than the gods' elixir
Thicker than water
It is the fountain, the spring, the source
Question–is this what binds us to our fate
To our eternal life, our unending cycle
Death and rebirth unwanted–
This thick liquid essence?
In legend, we are the seeds of a fruit-bearing tree
The grain sowed by the gods–mustardseed and ivy
Planted to be sowed, borne to be eaten
Sticky nectar and tart flesh–we are beasts of the soil
And the gods watch us crawl
Until we stand upright to face the sky
Like the lizard at noon, the rooster at dawn
We will ask them our questions
And wait for their answer, the resounding applause
Until we recede into the soil–
The gods must think this funny