[Spoken]
I was there when you were born. I was there when you started your descent down, deep down, into the vortex of your mother. I was there when you, in your own exquisite timing, continued your descent down, deep down, into the primordial channel of your mother. 

I was there when you, in your own exquisite timing, reflected as the moon, the old song of the universe. Pushing, pausing. Pushing, pausing. Testing for dilation in your mother's womb. Pushing again, pausing again. A woman's voice speaking to your mothеr: "Bear down now. Wait. Bear down now. Wait."

I was therе when you, in your own exquisite timing, verified the reverse path of the Kundalinic serpent, your mortal coil twisting towards the gateway of life. 

And I was there when you, in your own exquisite timing, came bursting forth, bursting forth. Clinging for dear life to the back of the tiger of rippling muscles and gushing waters. 

And I was there, my hands shaking and my heart pounding, as I tried to film your arrival for your parents, hoping to God, praying to God that I wasn't shooting the laundry basket. 

And I was there when you, in your own exquisite timing, came to a full stop into the loving cup of your mother's hands. Facing us all with the unblinking, three hundred and sixty degree stillness of a little old man. 

And I was there when they bound and swaddled you in white linen. White, the color of truth. 

[Music begins]

And it is I that found you this week in your apartment. Your sixteen years now cupped within the tangle of your own bruised arms and record collection. And it was I who bound and swaddled you in white linen. White, the color of truth. 

And it is I who sits beside you in this quiet room as you face, with unblinking stillness, the privacy curtain. You looking younger now than you did when you were born. 

And it is I that is remembering for you how hard you fought to get here. Is remembering for you the long descent down, deep down, into the vortex of your mother. Is remembering for you the strength and fierceness with which you ensured your entrance to this world. A rite of passage so deliberately difficult that all other trials would be acceptable by comparison. 

I am here because I was there. And I am here now because ah, you are giving birth to yourself again. And I am here because I am not fooled by the drugs and the defiant posters. I am here as you push and pause, push and pause, through your sixteen years. 

Dilating your soul until once again, in your own exquisite timing, the life force will flicker, flare up, behind the gateway of your uncomprehending eyes. Sending the recognition of self rushing forward, clinging for dear life to the back of the tiger of rippling muscles and gushing waters. 
And I am here telling you over and over and over again the story of your birth. For you will be born again and again. Even as you gather yourself beneath yourself. Even as you gather yourself beneath yourself to send your force forth once more well beyond these sixteen years. Here we go again. 

[Music stops]

I was there when you were born. I was there when you started your descent down, deep down, into the vortex of your mother. And I was there when your triumphant cry rang out upon the world like a symphony of bells.