Rise
it was the beginning of the end,
the fall
into dark places where
everything
changed, everything fell away,
suddenly
unrecognizable,
cruelly new, cruelly feeding
on your broken carcass,
no longer love
but a new species,
unrecognizable
except
in the shadows,
cameleon like, hungry and afraid,
angriest when
you did not die,
but rose,
reborn, a new species, the most unexpected –
a return to what
you once were,
and
something more, rising
not by your own wings,
but despite them,
rising like
the sun on a misty morning, faint
but inexorable,
softly unrelenting, a spirit rising
not to,
not above,
but beyond.
==========================
The image is of a painting I did last month, called “Rise”. As soon as I finished it, I knew it was not just a painting, but a poem, and it’s taken a month for that poem to simmer. You can click on it for a larger version.
Tom
Quarry House 
I loved it, the poem and the painting 🙂
Thank you Rosana!
Very nice painting. Like it.
Thank you so much Karin. And I loved reading your adventure into “urban farming”. Up here in Vermont, there seems to be a fair number of folks making the same move, and the joy they are finding in it is wonderful to behold.
The joy–and the constant entertainment from chickens! 🙂 I’m enjoying your blog as well…you are a busy guy…
I think of it as active more than busy. When you do what you love, it doesn’t feel busy.
And I know about the chickens. The woman I love has had chickens and they are something else to watch!