by Emma Freeman

I wonder what that moment is like

when she knows it’s time to create her chrysalis

and begin the process of completely unraveling

to become who she is meant to be

but can’t see clearly yet

Does she have some sense of what lies ahead?

Some inkling, some whisper, some subtle knowing?

Or is it all unknown, all mystery, all blind trust

that it’s just time for something to change?

Does she have to build up the courage to begin

that ancient process of transformation?

Or does that come built into her being?

What does she feel while inside that woven solitude?

Are her ancestors with her as she falls apart

invisibly guiding her through the sticky darkness

that they know so well?

During the messy destruction of what was

a thread of life is left unbroken

somehow

The mysterious plan making sure the story continues

a poetic rebirthing through ordinary alchemy

forces at play morphing her into an entirely new form

like an amazing magic trick

Someone who once lived so close to the earth

crawling her way slowly through life

now moves into the sky

to delicately float and dance with the wind

I wonder

where the memories of the life she once knew live now

Are they held inside her light body somewhere?

Perhaps within those powerfully fragile wings

she now carries on her back?

I wonder…