Emergence

 

Skins and peels

And the rotting insides of emotions I did not want to feel

Consumed by the gnawing maggots of shame and self-doubt

And those thundering voices that drag me down, down, down -

To a point where I welcomed oblivion.

I wanted to burrow down into the moist wet earth,

And become part of that soothing enveloping darkness.

And yet, while in that hellish chamber of sensory overwhelm

And bright, acidic lights that prodded and poked,

My body grew a small limb of … curiosity!

And then another, taking halting steps

Tumbling and falling

Sliding back ten paces

Crawling forward three -

The only way to learn!

I shed my burning skin and transformed,

Over and over and over again,

In hopes of a rare emergence,

Where I fly - with iridescent wings!

And see with a thousand eyes!

Isn’t growing wings such a radical act in a culture that would rather smother me, poke a pin through my chest and put me in a specimen box with a neat, white label?

This is dedicated to all of my community who are helping me grow my wings -

but especially my partner, the rock from which I spring everyday.