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The caterpillar marches
Munching from leaf to leaf to leaf
He doesn’t know where he’s going
He doesn’t know where he’s been
He only knows the munching
The hunger in his gut
The fire in his belly
Antennae pointing up
Vigilant for predators
Water and leaves
He doesn’t know where he’s going
It matters not where he’s been

The caterpillar weaves
Instinctively without knowing
Why he must, but weaves he does
A cocoon for the growing
The caterpillar digests himself
Dissolving into soup
Becoming a pod of pain and tears
And caterpillar goop
Alone for weeks he suffers
Reconfiguring
His whole body becoming
A new kind of being

No idea what he’s becoming
No idea what’s in store
Suddenly caterpillar emerges
More beautiful than before
Stronger and more delicate
Lighter than the air
Ready for love and lofty height
A sight beautiful and rare
The butterfly does not look back
To the caterpillar he was
The butterfly flies forward
Embracing whatever comes
J Vital Aug 2023
Like the ice sheets, I will ablate and vaporise.
Borne by prevailing winds, I will aviate and rise.
With your radiating love I’m steaming anew,
In atmospheric dance cascading towards you,
Coalesced like cold misted droplets, to get there.
George Krokos Aug 2023
I'm all for love in case you haven't yet been told
and not for any amount of money can it be sold.
You may well ask what price this love would fetch
if traded on the open market by a hand to stretch?
The answer would be that on whatever given day
this love in my heart isn't for sale at all anyway.

No one, except God, could have access to the source
out of where love springs from and knows its course.
Attraction and repulsion are the main forces at play
and determine at what distance one's love will stay.
An awakened spirituality is based on universal love
that's blooming in the heart with a light from above.

We all have an urge to go beyond a certain limitation
that's been holding us down without any justification.
Past life impressions hidden in the subconscious mind
can play a significant role in life that's mainly to bind.
Pure love freely given can have a transforming effect
on all those around who imbibe its goodness to affect.
_______
Written July-August, 2020
Zywa Jul 2023
Every day I pass

the forest, it's hard to see --


that we're transforming.
For Florentin

Collection "Migration"
Andy Chunn Jun 2023
In a whimsical world, where riddles take flight
I found myself in an enchanted light
A serpentine whisper, soft as the wind
To a coiled snake, it drew me in

In shadows deep, where secrets hide
An interview with a snake I tried
Coiled and poised, its eyes did gleam
A creature ancient, from a distant dream

“Good day”, said the snake, with a glint in his eye,
“An interview for you, I surely will try
I have a tale to tell, a curious quest
Of secrets untold, and you’re my honored guest.”

I inquired of its secrets, of life’s hidden art
And it began to unwind, ready to impart
“Listen closely,” it hissed with a whispering tone
“For truths lie in places where fear is unknown”

The snake spoke of cycles, of rebirth and change
How shedding old skin brings growth in its range
Its venomous words, a potent elixir
Unveiling the depths of existence’s mixture

I learned of balance, of yin and yang’s grace
Of how opposites merge, in an intricate embrace
With every question it slithered and curled
Revealing secrets that unraveled the world

The serpent’s wisdom flowed through my veins
As I understood, I was shedding old chains
From ancient myths to the stars up above
It showed me the connections, the tapestry of love

As the interview ended, I felt transformed
Enlightened and humbled, my mind reformed
For within the coiled snake, a universe I found
An interview divine, in wisdom profound
A very old and wise serpent....indeed!
Eloisa May 2023
And she dances to the gorgeous melodies of the wind.
Echoing strength  in her new found wings.
She gathers grace after an almost endless stupor.
With a courageous heart, she grows her pretty wings in darkness.
And as she enjoys her freedom in the air,
she scatters glitters to every flower.
A wonderful flight in cheers.
A celebration of hope and change.
A meaningful metamorphosis.
A colorful blossom that beautifully swirls.
Seeking love, bringing life.
A sweet journey to remember.
A brief yet lovely moment to soar.
Batool May 2023
living in a murky world
listening to their silt laden words
started taking a toll on her
as she started losing
the vision and the clarity
slowly turning blind like
an indus dolphin !!
Eyithen Apr 2023
I let it all run
Thickly and quickly
I want them to see the messy horror of it all.
But it’s not all blood,
Rather it is the medium for my art:
Pictures of roses, cardinals, apples
The rouge on a woman’s lips
An  umbrella on a rainy day
A wool sweater
A pocket square against a black suit
The traffic light on the corner of the street...
Or perhaps I'll dip my quill in it and write
Because that's what writers do.

They turn all that red into something beautiful...
I read a quote once that said, "Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." (Kait Rokowski)
irinia Jan 2023
Transformation:
one into many &
many into one

the bird of paradise
half truth and half lie
it's not pure fiction
but pure singing
or intensity of the dark light

this vibration of your U(nconscios)
is a floating vessel
(sunk into mystery)
for my dreams
mine is for yours and for her
and for them
this is the way we meet
It's scary and wonderful
to recognize each other
some mirrors are crazy
light hides itself best in the dark
and darkness hides itself
best in the brightest of lights

there are too many layers
of liquid meanings in this
creature called life -
the same way
the ocean is carrying
different layers of
pressure and dark

the bird of paradise
dissolves itself
into singing cause
this is the only way
to meet its music
a bird constantly changing
the shape of its wings
to accomodate danger -
the danger of being alive
on your own
day after night
the bird of paradise exists only
in poetry which distills the irrationality of life
reality protects itself with boundaries
for poetry not to destroy its might
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