Two Poems for the Beginning Time
you must shatter shell;
you begin again.
Egg was good, but you’ve a yen
for life after the cradle.
There comes a time when
beckons world beyond your ken.
To remain would be fatal.
You begin again.
Peck a crack in prison
and inhale for a yell.
There comes a time when
wings of borning raven
grow cramped until
you begin again.
Come out, my gangly wren,
ostrich, owl, or eagle.
There comes a time when
“Way will open,”
and also, “You
must first knock
doors.” Someone else
assured, “When you follow
open where there were
none before.” And yet
another advised: “Traveler,
made by walking.” And so I
can’t tell you whether
way will slam shut,
leaving you to pull a
bruised finger out
will clear itself ahead
for your feet to follow
desire. I can’t say
batter down the door
with bloodied fists
or watch it swing
at the magic of your
behest. But I can
be a door in the wall
somewhere; where your
feet are is the beginning