After Life

This body is unfurling and fruitful
as a day in July,
nectar flowing from my fingers,
my skin brushes against the creamy air
and heat of the day.

I could chirp as I migrate into cells
to rescue the part of me that almost died
after I lost my way in the explosion of sorrows.
The stranger held hostage while organs of joy shut down.

In deepest grief, I see the antennae of a butterfly
close as each blue feather of color
flakes away from the tiny wires
so she can fly.

I hold back a sneeze
looking at the sun.
The breath escapes.

Laughter is nearly inevitable
in this jungle of summer.
If my mouth opens,
who knows what songs
I might learn to sing.