Metamorphoses

I am the sun, you moon,
if you’d like to play that game.

I’ll hold you up against my light
and candle you like egg
to glimpse your inner life.

I am strong enough to lift
and staunch enough
to carry all your weight,
so you can grow and grow
without restraint
while I move us onward
until you hatch your strength.

Earth is hard and final,
heavy, thick and flat,
in yoke with gravity
Those oxen pull against us,
as I pit ourselves opposing them.

The cradle in my arms for you
is silken feather soft,
a parachute of downy air,
safely falling without landing
until you come peeping
from your shell.

When the toll’s been taken
by our journey on the way,
as you wax, I wane
you can be the sun in turn
and I will be the former you.