My heart, like every chrysalis, must break,
freeing new life its transformation done.
For, Like a field it must be harrowed bare,
the hard earth broken to embrace new growth.
Waiting, unsure, winter seared, until;
Spring’s first warm days when all life stirring wakes.
I let the growing beauty guide my feet,
and bearing water, sing my dreams to blooms;
of every scent and shade, infused with faith,
the certainty of beauty’s silent roar
Content in knowing, that when, at last I fall,
my gathered grace returns to fertile soil,
that this is love, life undefined by need,
born of water, spirit, earth, and Sun.
Through such as I is all great beauty bred;
passed on to fragrant air the blessings pour
to reap, from each who pass, of dying less,
and leave, for each to come, of loving more.