For Emily

For Emily

I think those first little lurches inside the chrysalis must have hurt
Like childbirth, must have torn you open
As you tore it open, fearful of what the light might do to wings;
Half hoping they would simply go away,
Leave you like other people,
Wingless,
Safe.

I think you knew the dangers of the garden:
The net and the slender pin;
The sudden storm of wind and hail;
The swooping bird whose beak would crush the slight and tender body,
Leaving the wings to fall,
Torn and useless,
To the ground.

I hope you had some joy of all those pages stitched together
Like recipes; in fact, I hope they filled you up.
I hope they were like nectar of a thousand purple flowers
In a safe and fragrant garden.
Fluttering,
Fluttering
Forever.

For Emily by Judy Schilling

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