by Fred LaMotte
In the birth canal
you were anointed
with the microbiome,
smeared and smudged
with the mighty host
of earth's bacteria.
Your first breath hugged
atoms of all races, all tribes
into your blood,
the flesh of stars,
particles of the ancestors,
atoms from the body of Jesus,
the body of Muhammad,
the subtle body of Kwan Yin,
body of the first murderer
and the murdered one.
Every angel is jealous
for that breath.
75% of your DNA
you share with a fruit fly.
And now you only need
one more thing:
to touch the silence
of your Being.
Descend into the uncreated
intergalactic vastness
beating at the core of your heart.
Rest in the hollow seed
of stillness that contains
all right doing.
A mere most humble
and eternal gratitude.
A quietness that does not
make you a cosmic being,
or a luminous
ascended being,
but a human being
at last.
—Fred Lamotte