Anticipating conception birth. Slaking deep warm seeds we feel. Young gods will clamor to be real. All the gold and jewels on Earth are not worth the light behind the eyes, the smile, of a single nameless unborn child. Sparks start flying at conception, Only crying starts at birth.
Birth is less a journey by far, a tiny voyage, a maiden flight.
Earthly trek through jungle bush, Place where all of light began, Source of thoughtful life in space. Grand streets where starving children play. Affluent's cull, infanticide. Survivors shaped traditions way. With no reasons left to sell, beyond gold plated politics, stupidity consigned to hell, then self-aware Rebirth of Man.