beginnings.

see those crisp lines?

how the very tip of the bird’s beak

and the very end of the bird’s tail

come to a sharp point?

there’s beauty in the folding.

in the creased edges

in the way you can fold inward to make something new

to become something else.

but what of unfolding?

of coming undone to show your original form

to see yourself laid bare

and flat

and open.

to still see all those lines and

folds that happened along the way.

like maybe that line represented a quick move,

an unsure decision,

a time you didn’t mean to tuck right

so you had to double back and try again.

unfolded you can finally see all the creases, the bends, the shapes you’ve

carried and made.

like remember that time when you decided that,

when you believed this,

when you wished you took that back?

it’s enough to make you want to cover up again,

to fold inwards

to protect yourself and hide the exposure,

to become something that outwardly looks pristine

like the sharp points of a crane’s winged tips

but

there’s something magical and daring in unfolding.

in the imprint of creases that map your way, your journey.

and from the opening, from the unfolding,

what did you learn?

what steps did you make along the way?

and where were the changes?

there’s beauty in the clean lines of a paper crane

but I’m more interested to see how the story unfolds,

to learn how you got to this place,

and to hear about what you’ll become next.

Eyesight -