In this kingdom
the sun never sets;
under the pale oval
of the sky
there seems no way in
and though there is a sea here
there is no tide.
For the egg itself
is a moon
in the galaxy of the barn,
safe but for the spoon’s
the first delicate crack
~Linda Pastan, “Egg”
It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird:
it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly
while remaining an egg.
We are like eggs at present.
And you cannot go on indefinitely
being just an ordinary, decent egg.
We must be hatched or go bad.
C. S. Lewis from Mere Christianity
I try hard to be the good egg-
smooth on the surface,
gooey inside, often a bit scrambled,
yet ordinary and decent,
indistinguishable from others,
not making waves.
It’s not been bad staying just as I am.
Except I can no longer remain like this.
A dent or two have appeared in my outer shell
from bumps along the way,
and a crack up one side
It has come time to change or face inevitable rot.
Nothing can be the same again:
the fragments of shell left behind
must be abandoned as
now there is the wind beneath my wings.
I’ll soar toward an endless horizon
where the sun never sets.
and stretches beyond eternity.
I will no longer be merely ordinary.
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