Falling Apart

The Enigma of Brokenness

A pile of feathers, a flurry of wings, a scatter of seeds,

Falling apart to become new,

This is what nature is showing me these days.

What tearing apart happened here?

Did a songbird become a hawk?

Do moths become bats?

Will the seeds become trees or coyotes or squirrels?

Once whole, now found in pieces, the future becoming

But different.

I have questions.

Who did this? Why this way? Could there be another way?

I prefer things whole.

A feathered bird, a winged moth, a fruited tree.

My attention is diverted towards

Joyful movement in the water

wearing unyielding rocks.

Eventually, even they will yield to brokenness.

Stones skipped on the surface

Or sand beneath my feet.

Nothing is meant to be forever.

My eyes pick up the pieces now scattered and wonder,

What is next?