I wrote this poem in 1983 on my 16th birthday. Regardless of age, one can feel nostalgic about one’s childhood and long for a happier and simpler time. Instead, we are reminded of our own mortality. Compare this poem to Children, Children! (1983) with its similar theme.
The hour of my nativity
Is come again
And I
The child
Wish to curl back
Into my mother’s
Womb –
To become
Pure and protected
As before.
But the hour of nativity
Is gone
And the hour of death
Awaits
Filled with the moments of life.
The sands of time
Are in my hand
And yet –
Some escape, fall silently.
I clutch yet tighter
And yet more escape
And I
Mistress of Destiny
Am reduced to
Bondwoman of Time.
My eyes are illuminated
By the years gone by
And the promise
Of years to come.
And yet
I am unfulfilled –
The hour of nativity is gone
And I am a child
No more.
Vanita Shukla Hork, 1983
If you liked this poem, you will enjoy my book Soul (Memories from another Lifetime). Available on Amazon, free on KindleUnlimited. Please do leave a review.
Great poem! We Will always carry our “hour of nativity” in us even though we grow up, mature and change
Thank you so much, Birte! I fully agree with you, the inner child in us lives on, longing for peace, purity and simplicity.
Beautiful illustration of the contrast between timeless peace in spirit and earthbound life in the physical
Thank you so much, John! And we humans strive forever for this peace, while here in our earthly form.
Beautiful poem. I was moved to tears.
Sergio A. Ortiz Rivera
Phd in the Philosophy of the literature of the Abrahamic Religions
Thank you so much, I am truly honoured 🙏
❤️🗝🕯!
This is so deep, so observant… almost haunting. “I am a child no more”, yet it’s where we silently yearn to be if only for a moment. Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece.
Thank you so much, Jill, it really warms my heart to hear that! I am grateful if my poems can resonate with others.
The poem is a wonderful meditation on transition, time and the temporal nature of our existence. We are the only animal who perceives its life through time: the seemingly endless amount we have when we are young, and how the realization of the finite amount left as we get older tends to shape our goals and actions. It brought to mind the transcendental nature of Emerson’s poem “Brahma”.
Thanks Richard for this wonderful feedback! I wrote this poem on my 16th birthday and looking back now I also feel surprise at the melancholy and sense of loss being conveyed at such a young age.
Beautiful Vanita, a clear message that life after childbirth can never be the heaven that a mother`s womb is. In reality we are in transit from birth to death with some good parts in between.
That is so true, Steve, I agree with you! Thank you so much for sharing 🙏