Metamorphosis

Beneath an opaque moon
that barely dents  
the descent of midnight’s darkness
she sits entangled 
in a fragile web that’s woven 
from the dust of dried up tears
and shimmers with an iridescence
resembling oil slicked over water
hiding the past subaqueous, 
for they have bled from crevasses
within her tortured soul
in blood that lost its sanguine hue
deep in the salt mines.

She sits in quiet acquiescence 
as the moon drips muted colour
across a sky that reminisces
of an old Van Gogh,
and she lets her breath seep through 
an ubiquity of sighs that softly paint 
a shiver on the sculpture 
of her gently heaving breasts

And as each teardrop dries
the gems left in the dust are plucked 
and carved into great beauty
by a caring lapidarian who lifts them
to reflect the dwindling moonlight
and melt her bindings
while he prepares to witness 
metamorphosis
of her liberated soul.
 




march 2006
Janet Reid

 
 
Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ breathlesrapture Sept 9, 2010



  
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Awarded by Poetic Constellations




Awarded by New Horizons ~ March 21, 2006