Birth

I was born twice

The first of the regular sort
Spectacular in its significance
And ordinary in its occurrence
That any life has felt
But cannot remember

The second of a fantastic sort
Where if the world were aflame
We may have danced in its wake
For even the air seemed to embrace me
In all its eminence
Never as breath-taking as she

I have died once

Of the worse sort
Where in the world’s ashes
I may have wept
For even the air has left me
In all its sustenance
Never as heart-breaking as she