by Benjamin White.
-1-
In the chrysalis mist,
Vulnerable insects,
Perplexed by the changing order,
Cross the border to cling
Beneath the leaves protected
From the layers
Of projected dangers
Knowing knowledge and sin
Are caught again
By Mason-jar choices made
To betray compliance
When angry science rips
Away the fig-leaf belief
Of exile out of Eden’s suburbs
Disturbed by plagues
Famine, and the infestation
Of too much luxury
Chirping in the cicada night
Under porchlight scrutiny
Analyzing prejudice
And pre-judging laziness
With the shrill energy it takes
To sing from the tree-line
Bottled with the firefly dreams
Lighting the corridor with screams
And a gently nightly tune
Where translucent tears drip
Inside the glass cocoon…
-2-
Deep within the chrysalis fist,
And spinning slow across the eggs,
Time begs for space
To erase the forgotten
Episodes of glorious
Molecules exploding
With the dew forming
On the resurrected morning
When the stars
Are being conjured out
Of doubt with particles
Glistening in the exactitude
Of mathematical placement
To wink, think, and twinkle
Above the paradise of stillness
Where peace fills the emptiness
With beautiful bursts
Of energy and heat to create
And complete the scene
With eyes opening unto wonder
Cast under the green shadows
Of life deepening
Into the practical truth
Searching for proof to explain
The rain and stone left hard
And alone beneath the neutral moon
Where hearts break open
Inside the glass cocoon…
-3-
The stiff chrysalis insists
On a closed community
Where hunger sits listless
In the solidified fluid
Warming potential with hope
And the essential nutrients
Of consequence that let philosophy
Hold hands with apologies
So sorrow can slowly recite
Poetic lines written in the dark
With every remark stumbling
Through the natural memory
Of being captured in the crust
Lacking the trust to admit the guilt
Built outside the crime
And having to climb back in
Through the windows
Of condominiums locked against
Decay and fenced in behind
The mind left mindless yet
Kneeling to pray with regret
In the orchards along the way
Where metamorphosis dangles
On mystical, quantum strings
To grow fluttering wings
That fold in death too soon
While I sit transparent
Inside the glass cocoon…