Resilience Defined

snowflakes

Ripped from a watery womb,

You were sentenced to wander aimless at Evaporation’s whim.

Jostled into raucous crowds of strangers

And rejected by every cloud you ever knew,

You’ve been muddied, stepped on,

Swallowed,

Ejected as waste.

Your compulsion for lower ground has bound you to wander,

Ever wander, homeless,

Crying for the sea.

Cruel winds have driven you, harried –

You have fed hurricanes and blizzards from time’s birth.

Do you hold your memories close

On cold nights

As you wait on this snowbank

For your next reincarnation?

For

No matter how you are pressed,

You rise again,

Reinvent yourself.

Your DNA hasn’t changed

Since Creation

But your relentless pursuit

Of Life

Will outlive us all.

 

 

When Columbines Cry

columbine tear

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When columbines cry

their sorrows,

reduced to silvered pearls,

slide down emerald cheeks,

trace Earth’s veins,

disappear beneath quilted soil

and sleep

until they rise

again.

 

 

 

 

 

You Say You’re Broken

fallen.jpg

You say you’re broken.

Fallen.

Damaged.

You say you long for lofty places

but you’re stuck here in the trenches.

What if falling

was the first step in rising?

What if breaking

set you free to evaporate and soar?

What if your damage

and misplacement

and confusion

were the aqua-duct

to the world’s Water Cycle?

You say you always dreamed of living on a rooftop –

what if you were meant

to join molecules on the moon?

Until you let go

of what you say,

can you be?