Thoughts on Necessary Conversion

As sunlight gnaws at hyacinths so ready
to withstand the pressure of wind or moon,

as our swollen fingers pinched with bee stings
deflate and pick at the carapaces of beach-crab,

as desiccated moths, dust-turned, enwombed in fog
seem to contort even in their entombed bodies,

as the golden-honeyed leaf beneath a hive, saccharine,
feeds the fat gut of the caterpillar, hungry, green,

I learn the necessity of valuing quietness in nature.

I know how we find renewal through love,
find reunion and unification through it:

it is through listening to rustling and shifting
when we close our eyes and think of nothing

but what might be buried beneath our feet--
thousands of bones of animal corpses long-dead,

disintegrating and repurposing themselves
into nutrient-rich soil, relearning the importance

of separation through division.

Veronica Nation is a poet and artist from Colorado. Her work has been featured in Sink Hollow, 300 Days of Sun, LEVITATE Magazine, and Two Timbers Press. You can read more about her work at www.veronicanation.com.