Chrysalis

Photo by Clément Falize on Unsplash

A friend recently told me that she thinks I don’t mind aging because I am just “growing into what I already am.” I have no idea what that means. I also have no idea what comes next, but here I am, finally doing the (metaphorical) trust fall I could never do in grade school. The hands around me are so much stronger.

Stepping in the dark and trusting that there will be

some kind of ground under my feet

as I stretch them out in front of me.

Trusting that the air blowing across my face

carries fresh natural sweetness,

that the pulling at my fingertips is just a spiderweb

breaking and wrapping around my hands

so as I move in the darkness

I trail tiny iridescent threads.

I move like a dragonfly over water,

lifting the surface of what I touch

just enough for it to catch the light and shimmer,

moving on,

moving on,

moving on to the next step

the next moment

the next landing space for the eternal present.