"Poems are forever floating through my mind and if I don't catch them pin them to the page they are gone forever and what good is that?"
~ My journal (age 14)

Monday, August 8, 2011

Growth

It is the very core of nature
yet how unnatural it feels
to be utterly broken

to be split like a seed
torn in two by a shoot
somewhere deep beneath the earth

to be ripped and divided
like a perfect round cell
making way for something new

life growing in the dark
conceived in uncertainty
this pregnancy is hard to bear

wisdom is a breech baby
born in the wilderness
with no epidural in sight

there is only deep breathing
and hopeful anticipation
to midwife the pain

only the flowers
formed beneath the dirt
to show the way

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