Creation Of Life Poem by Yekaterina Bezpalaya

Each droplet falls through my fingers.
En masse they are so unique.
Unterminated freedom;
as air and water
coming together to become one flesh.

Such beauty is never to behold again,
for the spinwheel of life adds another thread.
The first few moments are soft yet strong.
Ahead of them,
the threads are fuzzied and are splitting.
The last threads are thin like silk;
so delicate that with one snip they break,
and the spinwheel stops.

The rain renews the threads.
Once more they become bonds of steel;
once more the spinwheel spins.
Rebirth has finally come.