and my toes curl on the grass
I am reborn.
As fall sheds the world of ease,
leaves welcoming the crunch,
I am reborn.
As winter chips away at bark
so do I cast off all facades.
Since the Gods relented
some two score years ago,
every night my soul brought to the scales,
every sunrise, happened anew,
returned to the world, feather outmatched,—
at every chance, a dare
to meet Their steep demands
on which this sacred pact depends,—
I am reborn.
And as the naked, tired birch
softly stumbles into spring
Again,
I am reborn.
