The race for life

Once I was a spore trying to reach the ovaries
I ran fast (must have been athletic) and won the race
to be a living breathing human.
Had the spore lost it would not make, any difference
for a spore.
As it is, I have seen the sunrise over the Pacific Ocean
mountains high and rabbits in the woods never loved
by a woman, nor the glorious hurt of rejection
The softness of her skin, the colour of her eyes
When I swam in the lake of enchantment and walked
near the waterfall where lovers cry.
All this because I was lucky, the victor of a race where
millions of spores