Birthing

Birthing 

There is a shaking egg,

a new life force

striving to be born,

a future imprisoned in a shell,

its prison wall waiting to be torn.

Excited and anxious to see its tender body,

in awe at this tiny shape

I'm stunned by its mighty power.

Watching in wonder...

I'm tempted to hold it and help.

It struggles and breaks the first crack.

This life that already is,

wants to BE,

this baby bird coming out wants to fly,

this new "me" wants to experience and see,

this new future "being" wants to hurt and to cry,

Ancient Spirit of High wants a form for its bliss.

My silent reverence sits and observes

this tiny colossal of power through a split. 

I don't touch, I don't breath.

It rolls, it shakes s'more, it pushes and stings.

I'm afraid, I'm impatient, I freeze

when its little beak's out free.

It's not taking its time,

It's taking more strength

that will need to stand up.

It's not slow,

it's learning endurance and patience

that'll need to survive.

It's not tidy,

it's building perseverance and commitment

that'll need to go on.

It's not neat,

it's creating the masterpiece

of this, its new performance.

That is why I stay back,

and don't help you baby bird,

so you can walk on your own and succeed

here now.