I'm shrouded by a force similar to all of the inner womb's love and patience—-right at the instance of the new-born entrance of this unpredictable reception. I'm alive as the welcome in this very place—-overwhelm by a high spirit of something else I can't explain. Unsure of the greetings up top the steps into Haiti—-otherworldly powers presents all sorts of strange feelings, natured with a beautiful confusion that enlightens me with colorful surprise.
Of all the elevated glory I've heard about incarnation: I believe I'm blissfully caught, in that Coming-To-Life spell during this heavenly newness. Newly wrought in my latest birth—-with a spectacular something, this intense awe and virginal glory can't explain—-Haiti seems all good to me, while I enter the bosom of its wondrous mystique. Far flung into its mystical no where—-while at its mountainous gates: how can I not—-childishly fall for its obscure fantasy, puffed up on bright mysteries, that's vaguely aura with the complete silence the muted thinking of the soul studies—-at this Creole birth. As individual eternal happenings can be—-from womb to inner earth: I'm up top the underground of this ancient glee—-come to life as an Ayisyen. This feeling though so supernatural seems to never stop—-as it unfolds with all the powers of countless worlds, which gather all kinds in its loving lap. Fathered by all its Spirituality, Nature, History, Traditions and People—-I'm on the edge of its smiling hex, in my entrance to its Kingdom come.