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Love the poem, especially the last three lines (which, looking back over it again, actually seems a great summary).

I think "choosing to be born" happens every time the notion of "I" somehow rises again from previous ashes to wandering down obsessive paths in delusional coma until crashing all the cymbals down off the shelf once again.

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~jack wrote (thread):

Thanks a million, man, for your feedback!

Means a lot.

You know, in Nahuatl (the language of the Nahua tribes [Aztec, Toltec and so on]), poetry is referred to as the Flower and the Song (In Xóchitl In Cuícatl). That says it all for me.

Our song is a bird calling out like a jingle: how beautiful you make it sound! Here, among flowers that enclose us, among flowery boughs you are singing. – Nezahualcoyotl

Nezahualcoyotl (1402–1472) was a philosopher, warrior, architect, poet and ruler (tlatoani) of the city-state of Texcoco in pre-Columbian Mexico.