With first breath, she rises,
A cosmic thread of vibrant hue,
Being sewn to wholeness,
Ever curious, weaving all things true.
Wide eyed from a long slumber,
Recollecting lives in-between,
Nourished back to life, cocooned,
To a Being of hope and dreams.
Her path unique as the fig trees,
Growing, learning to softly bend,
Marking this sweet spot in life,
A time to regenerate, to transcend.
Old wounds are healed,
Deep scars replaced,
Smooth snake skin appears,
A new era, a new way, a new grace.
She listens as the muse whispers,
Of bird, bone, blood, and stone,
For she is reborn as the artist of her life,
Flying solo into the unknown.