WINGS
Feel the catapillar's struggle.
Last leaves eaten, flesh constricting, innards liquify.
She moors herself with a gossamer hook under a sheltering leaf.
Turning, twisting, she spins her shroud.
With one last breath she tucks herself into her silken ship,
and dissolves, dissolves.
Eons, kalpas, Akashic time.
Then it comes,
sensed not felt
felt not thought
thought not seen
A pulsation growing
KAI HUI
KAI HUI
Feeding on old richness,
Breathing new light he is impelled forward,
Shoulders heave against the stiff sheath. Now breathing
WAN YUAN LING TONG
WAN YUAN LING TONG
Faith alone guides him.
He only knows to keep pulsing
TONG
Suddenly a new dream, now of flight,
Unknown dimensions of joy.
Look, high in the temple
Amid the shafts of scarlet light and the dust motes
Wings
Donna Whitmarsh
April 2011
Oh, yes. You posted your poem.
ReplyDeleteLike us we are unfurling from the fetal position to rise to the event of being alive with all its's challenges and changes. From the chaos we morph into something more beautiful and happy than even we could imagine.
Thanks for sharing,
Theresa