Saturday, October 23, 2010


Silkworm Moth - Bombyx mori - Just Hatched 
Anna Theodora at flickr, used with permission

The hurt you embrace
becomes joy.

Call it to your arms
where it can change.

A silkworm eating leaves
makes a cocoon.

Each of us weaves a chamber
of leaves and sticks.

Silkworms begin to truly exist
as they disappear inside that room.

Without legs, we fly.
When I stop speaking,

this poem will close, 
and open its silent wings . . .

1 comment:

Elisabeth said...

'Silent wings', and yet by way of paradox I can almost hear them. Thanks, Ruth.