A vision posing as memory intimates it is not
an artefact of fantasy. Reminiscing sensations
I remember the feel, of wetness burdening
my metamorphosing caterpillar me. Transitioning

within a nurturing chrysalis, suspended on the lower
branch of a tree I long crept, a cocoon made of silk
protected my body, storing efforts of the past
to ensure an enchanted future rebirth.

No magician could play such a mesmerising trick,
no reverie could invent such extraordinary dream.
As I emerged from my pupa, crinkled delicate wings,
Upside-down I hung to inflate them pumping blood.

A vision posing as memory intimates it is not
an artefact of fantasy. Reminiscing sensations
I know my eyes were open as I flew,
over endless fields of courteous wildflowers.