Gone are the days of security and provision,
My caterpillar body found that branch.
The one twig wearing it’s unpromising leaf has rescued me,
I must accept this moment now.
No more mothering of me
The violin of youth is resting its strings
As I must rest my own
I come.
I come into the dark curtain
I come into the vulnerability
I come into death
Of the old
I swim in pain
I dance inside out
I grow on my own
I whisper a new language—a melody of rebirth
White moons will dip into the night of my vision
My senses will be restored once again
The chrysalis promises freedom
With patience
And the world will be mine to taste again.
