"what does she feel..."

so,
what does the sun
feel like to
the small something that
emerges
ever so gently

is it white with
pure promise,
golden with value,
brillant as a diamond...
transparent
as the Truth?

does she peck her way
free from the
quiet darkness of
the place she's outgrown,
and wonder
if she could just pull the
shards of shell, or papery fibers of
the chrysalis back over her for
just one more day...

just long enough to
relish the silence of the darkened
womb,
instead of
railing against it...
day
after
day...

or does she feel the
warmth and
turn her face, like
leaf to light,
and bask in what will soon
be her native air?

what does she think when
the sun
breaks through
the first crack and ignorance is
no longer an
option...
and the darkness she has
only,
ever known,
disappears forever....

does she close her
eyes,
feel the
warmth
on her face
and
sigh...

"ah,
so
this is
Truth..."