Why babies scream

We all know

That sound.

It pierces through us.

Especially,

On a plane where

You know there

Is no where

To flee.

Firstly, let’s pretend

Together,

That we know

What is going on.

Our lives, are

By design

To be experienced.

To establish

A form of learning

A lesson

A moral quest.

We can assume this

Because the reason

For the journey

Was removed

At the start.

Let’s pretend,

We can take away

Our humanisms.

Let us dissolve fear

Of dying.

Melt away pain,

Suffering, desire,

The need for

New things.

What we have left,

Is memory that

Is the path to joy.

Even our higher self

Enjoys the memories

Of higher selves.

But, to be born,

Is to die from that self.

Imagine the form

Of being free from pain,

Being a being at one

With all.

You see the final

Life lesson

That makes all

Your hardship

Beautiful.

What an illicit joy!

You see that you

Are a God who

Experienced through

The eyes of ignorance

And you still found joy.

What a revelation!

Now, pretend,

Imagine…

That you are thrust

Out of that revelation

And into a darkness.

You can feel air

Enter your lungs

Violently.

You cough.

You are suddenly

Trying to breathe

When you haven’t

Considered breath

Since you left that fear.

A light breaks the dark

You are pulled into

The light.. How?

Suddenly, in the hands

Of a giant masked being

You are shaken.

Slapped.

You are covered in a slime.

You realize.

You are a baby.

The world just sucked

You back in.

You scream.

You scream with all

The rage of a damned soul

Forced to live a hell life again.

You can feel fear

Making room

For itself.

Pushing out your

Memories

Your feelings of joy.

But it’s not just joy.

Fear is wiping

The slate clean.

So you scream

Cursing the deletion

Of your entire

Remembered life.

This was not

What you wanted.

To go through it

Again and again.

Fear, an understanding

Bastard.

Continues to wipe it all

Until you stop screaming.

You are held by your mother

Her complete energy

Wraps you in a dizzying

Calm comfort.

You stop crying.

You are listening to

Your small body.

You are so new

To them.

But so old to you.

In your first three years

You will cry at anything

Because as you are

Bound to a body again,

It has no use to you.

You have to be served

While you accept all your

Memories are not to

Be used on this life.

Children have next to

No memory

Of their first three years.

That’s how long it takes

For the spell of experience

To make root with the

Survival of fear.

Until we learn the secret

We will keep coming back.

Circling the mystery

Screaming as an old soul

Is born into a young body.

Babies are the ancients

Coming to learn

Through the restrictions

Of relearning every detail

To find themselves

As ancients again.

But those first few minutes?

Holy shit,

What a raw deal

To be spat back in.

You did that to yourself,

So your screaming

At your own demise

Because there’s something

You need to learn.

That’s why I always

Smile when I hear

A screaming baby

On a plane.

We’re all trapped

Together,

And that little buddy,

Is mad as hell,

But he will learn to take it.