Thursday, August 5, 2010

you grow

warmth, light, a newness
something so round, so whole

every image I conjur in this worldly mind
is inept

maybe ones used for centuries--

the egg-
smooth, fragile,
dropped carefully into place
to be warmed nurtured,
a safe place with mother

the flower--
as you emerge from the growing place
bud into light and liquid,
I notice each stem, leaf, bud, petal

precious and perfect
a conversation in my belly
I can't understand
and could never have imagined

all in this body worn by earth and time
and thought

all awkward in light of you


Julie said...

Hi, Holly. It's so good to see you again. Beautiful poem!

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.