As soft light fuses
Into the day
The primal wound
Begins to fade
In the wash of his mother's tears
A memory
Yet silent
Of a fourteen month old babe
Still gasping
Still fighting
Still feeling

The murky unconscious
Lurks like a devil
Hiding answers
Through half a life
Growing doubt
And fear
As the memory returns
While the soft light bleeds
Still hoping
Still needing
Still living

Still