Monarch
I watched that Monarch
and could not say –
Was she wrestling her way out
of the cracking chrysalis,
or writhing her way in?
Such inexorable effort,
innate, not chosen.
Not brave, not heroic,
just obedient to life.
No swaddling ever held so tight.
The miracle of wings. Delight.
And those of us who’ve seen this a thousand times
still wring our hands
and say “God is gone. The church is doomed”.
We’ve forgotten Easter news,
left it sleeping in the pews.
As if that ever made a butterfly.
Sharonne Price 2013