December eighth

[The black sheep]

I'm put to mind of December eighth long ago
because it was a day I had to fight the fight
for my very life.
It was a day I lost my cushioned home
for caring arms to nestle in.
It was a day I first heard a recognizable voice,
un-muffled now, yet echoing joyfully
through my ears, and my scaly eyes
beheld an alluring spectrum of colors
canvased against a dark silhouette.

I no longer had to rely, and be nourished,
on second-hand morsels.
I became free from unavoidable posing
in front of a camera in my nakedness,
while I turned to let them know I was a man-child.
A nameless soul I was while resting and awaiting
my journey from my cocoon.

Water and blood would announce my
arrival when dark met light,
and it fled the scene,
and cries begat cries
as an awaiting spirit found it's host
in my wrinkled body, yet undone,
but joining them together as one-
and I became a living soul.
Now I had a name.

Oh that day on December eighth.

[YesNo]

Nice approach to birth. Most past events one cannot take from us.

[The black sheep]

The last line makes it my birth day

[Pensive]

It had to catch my attention!
Thank you for the interesting read my birthday twin! :)

[Haunted]

I like the premise, but the antithesis of "fighting the flight / for my very life" and then "caring arms to nestle in" seems forced. The part about hearing a "a recognizable voice" is not credible, same for hearing "joyous" sounds and seeing "an alluring spectrum of color". These are rhetorics and melodramatic. I'd take out the section about what you see and hear and feel, just can't believe someone just born can be cognizant of anything. I would begin the piece from S2, I think it's pretty strong from that point on.

[The black sheep]

Thanks for the critique, but babies do recognize a familiar voice from their place in the womb to out of the womb. Although I can't possibly remember that, but at the time it was being photographed{ the colors, shapes} in my tiny little mind. Though I do appreciate your opinion.