Victoria Bassett-Wilton

I am content,
though I am alone.

A half formed embryo
in the womb of the world
trying to understand the language
that has no words.

If this is my life,
then I am happy.

A child in a playground
composed from the minds
of millions before.

Although I am without my people –
how I miss my people –
the memories and possibilities of them
clinging to me like a cloak,
I find myself unworried.

I am unperturbed.
A glistening figure on an endeavour,
ship sails flying, as
I make my way into the
world that has dawned for me.