Rebirth,
It was not like spring,
Releasing me from winter,
Nor was I winter,
Turning to spring.

So long had I laid there.
Mud squirming around,
The grounded boot;
Did stomp,
Cruelly.

But nature was part of it.
Bare feet,
In the mud.
Toes and mud dancing,
Squirming.

But not for revenge.
For truth in beauty,
In seeing the two:
Toes and mud
Together,
Shape one another for growth.

For nothing feels better,
To walk a land,
Sowed again;
Ready to grow.