Bat / Crack of light

By Natasha Devalia

Crack of light

Can I be she who sees

not the breaks,

but the light

which peeps through the cracks?

Can I be she who waits

for beauty to unfold

at its own undying pace?

Can I be she who uproots

herself, because that

is the seed of bearing fruit?

But to be uprooted is a heavy penance,

cracks; lifelines, worn as medals.

Bat

It used to be

numb

inside me

until

It ripped free,

the bat

imprisoned

within me

leathery

skin

split ribs

tear free

wings flap

night tree

new moon

over sea