it is natural

it is natural, the changing

the seed, deeply planted 

in the earthy darkness

the caterpillar, cliché and honest 

in her shadowy confines 

the raindrop tears itself 

from the rest and embraces 

the fall

my yet- again

wobbly-legged heart in the stable 

birthed

the angels in the wind celebrate the newness 

of the birds in the nest 

stretching that slippery, fragile 

apparatus attached 

to their back 

I hear the noise outside 

and, knees buckling, 

grow my way through it 

the seed back in the soil of my body 

no more, no more