butterflies hummingbirds and spiders
helped raise my children....
today i thanked them:
risen from my empty bed,
gone out of my empty house,
into my empty garden—
i stopped
under summer-sunlit gold-streaming
leafy old beings, rife with patience
(the trees, not me!)
the otherworld beckoned:
a stained-glass-molten-golden swallowtail
ribboned into my vision....
stepping further under the trees—
a web-festoon drew
across my face....
(the spider,
golden too,
arced away to safety....)
a hummingbird, wings a-haloed,
paused over the open hillside
(not feeding, not chasing a mate, not hiding)....
i felt
the constancy
of their attention,
(and of all things winged and wafted)
and i thanked them for reminding me:
the otherworld nets around us,
throughout childhood....
or day or night,
or now....
•
i still see them
making secret tunnels under bushes....
(the children, not the spiders.)
(well, the children and
the spiders.)
i hear their gleeful chirps
in the climbing-trees....
(the hummingbirds too!)
daring each other higher,
shouting as they leap from limb to grass....
(how the webs and the wings encircled
my anxious moments....)
the pangs of their empty spots
(on couch and floor and very
own beds)
sting me....
but—
the hummingbirds, butterflies, and spiders
still come around
like nothing has changed!
and maybe nothing has....
i live the age-old dance
of love and let go, and ‘a blessing on your journey!’
and walk from under the trees to meet the unknown
like mother after mother before me....
___________________
©2013
beth anne boardman
