Armfuls of Poetry, Drops of Sunshine

"Spring rain holds poetry in its drops
which bend down to kiss the soil,
so that the seeds may sprout."

-Thich Nhat Hanh

To Be Born Again as Butterflies

for Rachel A.

I've heard that symmetry means there are two sides

and one looks exactly the same as the other only in reverse,

like folding tissue paper appendages in half, again and again.

Like blinking. But still I'm not convinced that it's true.

But what if it doesn't happen that way? I asked.

It will, she said. But how do you know.

I meant really, really know.

Look around, she said.

And then there were the words wrapped in a paper towel that you held a few days before, that I held in the late afternoon, even though you are far away, and a few of them hid like watermelon seeds, near the bottom of page 22: to be born again as butterflies.

And then somehow we were.