Jostled by hands reaching into darkness
My world expands at a frightening rate
Who are these who disturb my slumbering?
In a void I laid, my yearning silent.
Bizarre hands pulling toward light's first influx,
toward the great flash when the eyes awaken.
This world, this fire burns fear into my mind
free to move a bit, I toss in terror.
I cry the first sound I've made in the light,
attended by figures who handle me,
angels dressed in white assuage my trauma,
and hand me to arms which rock me gently.