Unless there’s a sudden trauma,
dying is labor. It’s clearly labor.
The breathing becomes more rapid,
almost a panting.
However, instead of laboring to enter this world
from the comfortable confines of the womb,
there is the labor to exit this world.
There is a struggle as the self gradually allows the soul to separate
from the familiar womb of the body.
Except the body is not a womb,
it is more like a cage
or a very heavy coat
encasing a soul whose nature it is to fly.
But we forget that.
We cling to the body because it’s all we know.
It’s all we’ve known our whole life long.
We forget what it was like before we slipped into the womb
to begin this life.
If only we could remember.
If only we could remember
how very different dying would be.
~ Cynthia Greb, 2016