rebirth

feels like

the first page of a new poetry book

with fresh ink

you trace the curvatures of your innermost thoughts.

“Rebirth”

sounds like

feels like

escaping yourself.

see, I’ve gotten very good at running

Faster

Harder

Deeper

out of spite.

out of shaming the self I once was—

relinquishing all claim of her actions and her dreams.

So what is braver?

breaking away from all we once were

or

turning around

staring our past selves in the eye

and speaking gratitude and forgiveness over them?

see, “rebirth” doesn’t sound quite right to me anymore—

I need another “re-“

re-

re-

re-turn—I think.

Return.

Turn around.

Come back home.

I am no longer looking to see

what wondrous fruits I may bear

Or how my leaves will change or fall.

I am bowing at my roots

kneeling for them

and pouring my reverence into their soil.