Recursive Dream

Rebirth

This is rebirth

First as a child who knows only wonder and bliss
and the terror of immediacy
Then as an adolescent sure only of himself
determined to make his own mistakes
Now as a teenager full of hormones and longing and insecurity

Behind and threaded through every stage is a quiet playful knowing:
This is not real and it never was.

What is life if not these neatly delineated stages?
What use are labels in a world where thing is only ever a verb?

I realize now I was never asking a question
I only wanted to be free of all my answers