I Will Change
This morning and the summer
I was nine
I was squirming out of the cocoon
Ashamed for an instant
That I couldn’t fly.
(I was wet, sticking to myself,
Trapped in my own body
Tangled in the fabric of the shroud,
Wild and frantic to get free.)
It was so difficult
I wanted to cry
But I had to keep at it
Like before, as always.
A caterpillar has to become a butterfly
Or she’ll die.
I Will Grow
I am the root,
Stem, leaf, and flower
Of myself.
Don’t hasten the bloom
With your aesthetic impatience.
If the hope of a flower attracts you
Take care to cultivate me.
Nourish my roots first
Light, air, space for my leaves.
If you don’t have the time
Buy some pretty cut flowers
And leave me alone.
I will grow.
Two good ones. Thanks, Sherry. My favorite is the last--Sherry as a flower.
Thanks, Tom. Always appreciate your response...