Chrysalis

Time the incubator
prepares its gift—
a cell of creation
anchored by silk,
an unborn shape
between two births.
From chaos a seed
of intricate order
as eye mosaics,
clubbed antennae, build.
The swollen envelope
splits and delivers
cramped wet body
into air which is now
the chrysalis, until
time rips it open,
casts out turquoise
and twilight blue
still blazing inside
locked wings.