What gives the bird its song to sing and morphs the butterfly,
from spun cocoon of caterpillar to powdered wings that fly,
what curls the strings of blooming vines to grasp and cling to limbs,
birthed from seed that fell to ground from once a winds swift wisp.
What colors grass and twig of tree, paints all flowers and salts the seas,
where life takes shape on coral shelves by spores sprung forth from sponge itself,
what gave the soil its fertile worth where life springs forth as simple worm,
to etch a path for ground to breathe, do this you know, pray tell me please.

What calls the rain into the sky from pond and river to various heights,
to join in earth and dust from shores they’ve never been or saw before,
in congregated white formations to sprinkle later every creation,
with refreshing nourishment where once again they will ascend.
What lifts the particles of light in waves both dim, dark and bright,
that gives us all the sight to see including the fuzzy honey bee,
that toils because its very life is made in combs where was provided,
to do a thing so magnificently, do this you know, pray tell me please.

What whiskers a cat, feathers an owl, scales a fish, raises wolf’s howl,
fashions a womb with the frailty of life where cradled within must survive
on formulation of substance found only in being of female shroud,
to ready child for breathing first breaths outside this woman all by itself.
What turns the planets, sun and moon, what put the stars in orbits loom,
what holds them there that we can't find to challenge all our human minds,
to explore what forms all life which must exist since here we find,
proof of all its recipes, do this you know, pray tell me please.

I wish not to offend or bother I wish only to wonder farther,
through the words from which I find inside my thoughts within my mind,
from time of day when eyes awake to find the gift of light of day,
sprung from probabilities that form the possibilities,
that entertain and shape my life beyond what others see as mine,
into what I care crave to do with all my might as it is true ,
as true as flowers bulling fruit such as apple and honey dew,
from what blooms thoughts to make a dream,
do this you know, pray tell me please.

Jade Jaspers