I slept in the ether before I was born,
A shadow of stardust, untouched by the dawn.
I dreamed of the seas, though I knew not their name,
And felt every breeze as a whisper of flame.
In silence, I wandered through endless night skies,
No heartbeat, no breath, no tear-filled goodbyes.
I floated on winds that were older than time,
And tasted the pulse of a world without rhyme.
The moon was my mother, the sun but a star,
I cradled their light though I drifted afar.
I knew of the rivers, the forests, the dew,
But still, I was nothing, a thought never true.
In the hush of creation, my spirit lay still,
No love yet to stir me, no sorrow to fill.
I heard not the voices of life's gentle call,
But felt every movement, the rise and the fall.
Then time reached to hold me, and dreams took their form,
I woke to the earth and its tenderest storm.
But still in my bones, I remember the night—
The ether, the quiet, the absence of light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem