I wonder if I was there 
still 
when my lungs burst forth with 
that first cry…? 
Maybe that’s why I cried – 
because this world had ripped me from 
the paradise 
of being all I was created to be.

Now, 
that would make it all 
make sense – 
the seeking
the searching
the running
and
hiding,
the tears 
and
desperation, 
and, oh, 
the longing…
…the endless longing 
to become  
something – 
anything other than me – 
the me that happened when I was ripped away from 
the paradise, 
my Kingdom of Innocence,
which was meant to be 
the place of my strength
in the depths of my soul
always a safe home 
in the return to me. 

*With thanks to Anthony de Mello’s The Way to Love, pp. 99-103.