The Womb Of This Immortality Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Lay upon the earth
against the ancestors' remains,
hear her molten dirge,
the womb of this immortality,
a garden of human consciousness flows
the civilized spring
a result of many experiments
of life
now moves your new fingers
along the open page.
All that you see she breathes
the ethers that cloud
the rising continents,
in her memory echoes the footsteps of creatures
whose energy now roams
the thoughtless exploration
motivating your skeleton;
In the beginning, you were on
fire
until she made a wish,
blew you out and formed
you, cooled you in the sea.
Now lying like a frightened soldier amidst the dead,
a somnambulist in occupations
of self denial,
upon the weedy bossom,
she closes her eyes as clouds
mount the sky;
You can feel the struggling
evolution,
your future's brother
kicking his ascendancy
there amidst the nameless
shoots of withering emerald,
the womb of this immortality.