Birth is an eternal wonder, ever-changing and evolving within parallel universes.
The brittle chrysalis, green and hard as a milkweed pod, hides nature’s pupa in cottony softness. Wrinkled and wet, a winged jewel emerges. Mother’s birth sac splits. Baptismal waters Spill her babe’s Soft flesh, fully formed Onto linen’s Glaring whiteness. Sunshine dries The butterfly’s Gossamer wings. Its silky whiteness shimmers transparently Against the opaque sun. A newborn squalls. Tiny fingers Curl in a tight ball. Each digit is a Prayer bead Chanting its presence. Wings and fingers Antennae and toes Displace space that Minutes before was Unknown, unclaimed.
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