I want to return to the time of my birth,
The warmth of that small swaddled body,
Hardly recalled but strongly suspected,
Cradled against that comforting *****.

I want to awaken from sleep and discover,
Removed  from all cares and privations,
Myself once more innocent and newly born,
Ill-prepared for the raw sensations.

What has produced this unintended desire
To cast off the trammels of humdrum existence?
To discard the burdensome strain of my thoughts
And regain the chastity of neonatology?

When I suffer the albatross weight of this notion
My mind and my heart  unite in resistance
To the sorrows and remorse of painful
Contrition.  And that’s when I seek  solace

From a retreat to the felicity
Of childlike incorruptibility.
I know there’s no way that it could happen,
But I would love it; I would love it!