Today, new-born from all my yesterdays, Lies in my cupped hand, a fragile, prophetic thing Just broken from its chrysalis with wings aflutter. What far flight shall it make with buoyant pinions? What fateful tomorrows shall it breed Before it folds its worn wings In the last twitchings of its dreamless sleep? I hold today in my hand and watch its unfolding. Then in faith I release it and wait the will of God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SENRYU: BLIND DATE by TIMOTHY LIU THE BOOK OF STONES AND LILIES by AMY LOWELL EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS [OR VILLERS] (2) by THOMAS CAREW THE BIRDS: THE WEDDING CHANT by ARISTOPHANES TO THE SHAH (1) by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI |