Rebirth

I liken it to a void--
Void of feeling, void of thought, void of darkness itself,
Empty. Nothing.

And I liken it to a quiet voice
Not a flash of light, not a thunderous voice from the sky
But just the same, scales on my eyes,
A quiet voice.

And again I liken it to a burning in my lungs
A fire raging, underwater
I see a thing called pride and I can't release
I see an unforgiving heart and it grips my chest tighter
I hear a voice that says, "I can do it on my own."
Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Can't breathe.
I see it, glorious, for just an instant
And my grip loosens
That glorious hand reaches for mine and suddenly I am out
Gasping, coughing, wheezing,

Breathing
                                                                                                                                                                                               
I liken it to a golden field
That shimmers in sunsets like tinfoil
And blows across like waves of the ocean
Sometimes storms come, but without the rain
This field would not be so fruitful for harvest-time.
Sometimes, the soil must be turned,
Or the earth given a rest so that new things can grow
But always, always, it returns what was put into it
Hundredfold.

I do not liken it to; it is Rebirth.