Reinvention

Where I sit
wild irises are sleeping.
Even now as the scale of light
tips to the favor of the forest
they quake, send roots down
ready themselves
for the great push:
Birth.
What sleeps in the fertile ground
of little me?
There is a quaking
a feathered trembling
from egg-shelled casing
when my light tips ever slight
to the favor of the impossible.
Can I hold this spring
in heart, in mind
steady enough for roots
steady enough for green blades
to cut through to a forest greening sky
steady enough to birth one
luminous purple flower
bathing in speckled sunsight
wild iris that I am.

Stephanie Thomas Berry is a painter-poet residing at the foot of Mount Mitchell in Yancey Co. You can read her daily writings at stephanietberry.livejournal.com and see her paintings at woodbyrd.com.