Monday, November 16, 2009

Mandala musings

Fork in the Road

My bones stand naked in my skin.
Time to metamorphize,
shed my carapace that was worn to transparency
by living, simply living
day by day, minute to minute.
Time for rebirth as a butterfly or snake,
but which one?
A butterfly carries no trace of its former self,
the worm it once was;
a snake keeps its crawling form,
clearly hinting what it will become,
yet a bigger snake.
Butterflies have wings, are closer to angels;
snakes are more down to earth.
Butterflies are transient beauties,
the proverbial meteor blazing across the night sky.
In the “once upon a time”
one might even have landed on Eve's hair
when her tresses were bedecked with Eden's flowers
as she stood naked in her flesh.
They die, these fluttering angels, after their nuptial flights.
Snakes live through many frosty winters.
They resurrect themselves each spring
and flick out their tongues to taste the air,
find their mates and survive the mating.
Cold-blooded, slithering, slow, earthbound, fork-tongued,
and craftier than Eve,
I’ll be a snake.

~Richard Fein~


Jasmine said...

Sweet poem. I think when the time comes, the question of 'what' will be easy to answer. We will instinctively know.

Lyon said...

Wow. Just. Wow. Thank you for sharing that.

Delphyne said...

Thanks, Jasmine - I think we know more instinctively than we admit.

Glad you liked the poem, Lyon - I loved it!

Lost City Denise said...

Incredible altar and poem! Something inside me twisted, turned and swelled.

Thank you so much for sharing

Delphyne said...

Thanks,'s good to see you here!

lynne h said...

oh, this poem... so perfect and it says everything...


Delphyne said...

'Morning, Lynne - the poem is great, isn't it?