Birth is a messy process
Squeezed down the canal
One fears the process
Of becoming separate.
The bardo of becoming
Is primal suffering
Awakening a metamorphosis
From a tarnished state.
Rebirth awakens the same memory
Going down the canal
Does not get easier
Labor is exactly the same.
Between two worlds
The womb and the world
Delivery beckons the soul
To envelope its karma.
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