messages from jays
the interruptions from
inhospitable downpours
the intense sun 
the storms never releasing
the daily wondering what seed 
will take hold or fail 
a history of losses and gains
 
I notice the progress afterwards
each musical phrase 
each edited line picked clean 
each ache of heart and body 
welcoming the messiness of digging
the rewards at the end 

the ground practically vibrates
I’ve done what I’m meant to do
                        

I witness the larva stages of caterpillar to butterfly, 
its long, hidden secrets of transitioning,

their flight almost babbles its presence
to be seen, its restless efforts to amaze and amuse,
knowing it only lasts for a brief late summer,

a mere sampling of milkweed.

All the good moments are always arriving
with a language like butterfly movements,
this burden of being completed by light.

It all ebbs out like night purpling the sky.