trapped in your cocoon
of protection
a restless desire for freedom
struggles to break free;

The spring Sun is melting the snow
and is calling you to drink
nectar from the flower blossoms;
The time is coming to split
the chyrsallis,
self-woven long ago
when autumn leaves were falling
and cold wind blowing without mercy;

Self-woven to protect
the fragile soul
from the freezing of winter
and to guard the tenderness
of transformation;

Now, unused wings
must struggle hard
to break free
and so gain strength
to catch the air
and sail free

I am waiting to see
a miracle:
what flowering of colors will fly then?

February 2007