Saturday 1 December 2012


crushing sensations.
narrow tunnel
dark as death,
turning red
like hell.
Primal fear
of change,
of Utopia

Blinding lights,
deafening roar
of sounds
Air pressure,
brain and tissue.
Sinking feeling
of vulnerability,
as fingers prod
and poke.
Lifeline severed.
Habitat stolen,
then destroyed
with afterbirth.

Plastic tube
tiny airway.
Agony of lungs
unaccustomed to air
over inflating.
of giants'
alien faces
hovering above.
I don't
like it here.
I want
to go home!

Water cold
on tender skin
washing away
last comfort
of amniotic mucus:
final caress
of maternal medium

Heart filling
with grief
Piteous yells:
Please please
just hold me?
Comfort me?
I am
so helpless,
so alone;
so lost;
so afraid.



  1. Brilliantly imagined - or was it? (I have known two people who claimed to be able to recall their experience!)

  2. I cannot recall being born, but have retained fragments of memory from two past lives - believe it or not!
    I'm convinced there is more to this thing they call life than meets the eye!!

  3. Wow...this left me speechless. I would love to become your newest follower if I may :)

    1. Thank you so much. I would be honoured if you were to become my follower. I have been reading your journey, and I find it absolutely facinating. There is so much common ground there.
      Thank you for sharing your experiences and feelings. It really helps.
      Have a great day :)

  4. Explosive! I held my breath through the whole poem Ygraine! Really good, I think perhaps after reading this I am glad that I don't have any recall of my journey into this world :)

    1. Me too! Although, after having said that, my past life memories focus mainly on the moment of death, and that is equally traumatic.
      Begs the question as to why we incarnate at all!! Hehehe:D

  5. powerful!! I don't remember my birth but like you, can remember past lives in snippets. This was wonderfully imagined. xo

    1. That is facinating. I would love to hear about your experiences someday too. So many people have these memory fragments. We must be remembering them for a reason, mustn't we?
      No doubt it will be one day revealed...xx

  6. Interesting reply- as per some of the comments. I have to agree that there is more out there than we can know. The doors are open, so far as I'm concerned. All things are possible.

    1. I have had so many experiences throughout my life that I no longer doubt that there is much more 'out there' than those things we can see, touch, taste, hear and smell!
      You are so right - the doors are well and truly open...I'm convinced of it.

  7. I'm really looking forward to your next post :)

  8. Thank you so much Keith.
    Think it's time I got writing!! :)

  9. Right, this is me FEELING your poem as opposed to thinking it through. Claustrophobia, birth. You've taken me to that unconscious stage we will never be able to remember because we were "inside". I felt as if I were a phoetus, protected but confined.

    I loved your poem (this is now my rational side). It's vivid and real. You can almost smell it:

    "Water cold
    on tender skin
    washing away
    last comfort
    of amniotic mucus:
    final caress
    of maternal medium

    What a great stanza. Thanks.

    Greetings from London.

    1. Foetus! Sorry, big, massive typo! It should read "foetus".

      Greetings from London.

    2. Do you know, I've actually tried really hard to remember my birth but to no avail. I think it would be amazing. (Past lives are relatively easy in comparison).
      So I tried to imagine it, and this was the result.
      Thank you so much for reading this. I truly appreciate it :)

  10. Hi Ygraine, your poem has an interesting double take revealed through its title. The descent you refer to conjures up images of a process beginning from a point of high altitude and descending into its mortal coil and ofcourse - the cultural aspect associated with the word descent - implies a journey into hell. Now if life is an end product of spiritual substance captured in a process of suction into the earthly sphere and your poem is the metaphor of an inverted process going from the pure to the coarse , then as I see it your poem reflects part 1 of the eternal cycle. Any chance of part 2 in the near future ?
    Thanx for prompting me to think imaginatively and creatively through your inspirational poem.

    1. Hi William, it's great to hear from you.
      That is amazing! It is exactly the message I was trying to get across: the descent of the Spirit into the physical, and the grief (symbolised by the crying of the newborn baby) of leaving behind the perfection of the Spirit World.
      Thank you for being so perceptive!
      Perhaps I will attempt part 2 soon :)


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I really appreciate hearing your opinions...:)