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Reconstruction
by D. Savannah George

I can imagine
that turning into
a butterfly
hurts.

Not so much
the cocooning --
the wrapping
yourself up
in a warm dark place --

But waking,
blinking and disoriented,
in a different state --
every fundamental
thing about you
transformed --

then

the struggle
to be released
from where you put
yourself.

The unfolding
of new, damp wings.

The flexing
of muscles
you didn't know
you had.


But Oh!

The glory
of that first flight --

bird song in your ears
sun in your face

the horizon

vast and welcoming.


Poetry copyright © 20 March 04 D. Savannah George. All rights reserved. Please do not steal my work. If you would like to reprint, please ask permission.