Cold start

The loud screaming baby, bundle of joy,
traumatized by former lives,
is carefully taken to the father
whose ears hurt more than
anesthetics can prevent.
He lies a smile in disbelief.

Life starts in flabbergasting cold.
A lonely journey begins
from the moment the womb is left.

Loud screaming starter in the hurdle race
of which the distance varies;
your finish appears vaguely on the horizon,
an uncertain blur trembling in hot air,
and although you are too fragile,
too small, too alone:
go for it.

You are a winner anyway for making the effort,
no matter if the wind’s against you.
No matter if the race is short.

Comments on: "Cold start" (4)

  1. Reblogged this on stgreenie.

  2. “although you are too fragile,
    too small, too alone:
    go for it.”

    So, we have the courage from the beginning – the courage to make our way alone and to breathe as we were meant to. Great poem, Ina! XO β™₯

    • Hi Diane, thank you so much for all your comments! I am reading them all, with my first coffee and it is a greeat way to start my day! πŸ™‚ β™₯

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