In a wombed trance
at the edge of existence
I hear familiar voices;
hands touch me, raise me up,
draw me towards their own reality.
Yet I would rather stay cocooned
drifting to soft oblivion
as the voices
and the hands
fade into the numbness of eternity.
Pushed, pulled, lifted, lulled;
propelled headlong into the blinding light
where strangers voices
soothe the new fear
of re-emerging life.
Reality overpowers reluctance,
the dream dissipates, until,
a voice, your voice,
welcomes me back from the edge
of the abyss I did not cross.