seeding from within
for the birthing of yourself
this time –
You will
burst through your own damned skin,
exploding the social shell
into a mess of flowering pulp;
midair
you
take shape into flight.
You strange and wonder full fruit –
filling the air with your juice,
for the hungry
who can only long
with painful bellies
unsure if they actually saw you
take your wings
into the sky –
Are you
never to land
on mundane, again?
Joy calls from you now
as your span stirs the air.
You circle up –
you orbit out –
a spiral map for the
gaping below.
Life as Improv 
Absolutely 🙂
Amazing, visual poem! If only we knew how to birth like that!
Maybe we do 🙂
Your words always capture me in places of wisdom and whimsy. I hope your well.
Benjamin
Thank you, Benjamin. I hope you are on the mend and seeing the light at the end of the farmhouse tunnel! xo!
Thank you. Beginning to see the light. Healing..not as quickly as I’d like sadly 😦
Wowee. Spiritual Aphrodite. I am loooving this juicy morsel!