metamorphosis

 

I can sense your waking
with the subtlest glow
coming to warm you
from out in the great beyond.

I can almost see you
sleeping there
beyond the fog
buried deep beneath
the layers of Winter's snow.

If I listen closely,
I can hear your quiet whispers
cut through the deafening silence
sharing the extraordinary secrets
of all, that has yet to come.

And if I close my eyes
and maybe tilt my head up to you,
I can feel you presence lean in
brushing against my cheek,
like the gentle touch of a cloud.

These last bits of hibernation are the hardest.
An impatient quickening starts to set in,
making me think I must dig you, or me,
out from under, the looming
depths of the season.

But I know that I cannot.
There are things that mustn't
be unearthed prematurely.

Like the shell of a chrysalis
or the multiple layers
of unstable snow
There is an insulation that is needed
to protect that which is hidden,
delicate, and not yet ready to be seen

A life force,
working diligently,
and ever so hard, to take root inside.

Metamorphosis requires patience.
Big integrations work in their own Divine time.

Every year,
it feels a long time in coming.

And every year,
your Awakening
takes my breath away.

This year, I know will be extra beautiful.
Because this Winter has plunged us even deeper.

So when the Sun finally returns,
and the shells of ice finally melt away,
a new found life force, will erupt out of the depths

Forged in the underworld,
and insistent to stand strong in THIS world,
in an evermore embodied,
emboldened, and illuminated way.

metamorphosis