METAMORPH


I was born
Where two seas swirled, 
And in that water
Medium I grew, 
Sprouting skills 
Like psychic organs.

The two waters 
Did not want
To fully merge,

So in the house
Built there
A monster came
One day,
Devouring me.

She took me to her lair,
Regurgitated me
And raised me there.

Years later
I came blinking
Out into the sunlight,
Crawling on my belly.

I Thought I had scales.
I believed my bite
And breath
Were poison, too.

As humans, true humans,
Found and embraced me,
I began to see
I'm not a reptile.

Love taught me to speak,
To see I have hands,
Walk upright,
Am covered in soft, pink flesh.

Love's diamond drill
Broke through
To my heart,
Cutting through 
Thick walls 
Of numb flesh.


The job is not complete.

Reptile parts 
Still surface.
My tongue slithers
In and out sometimes.

I crawl on the floor
And even slide 
On my belly
And roar.

People around me 
Are always shocked.
I recover, though,
More quickly each time.
It's been happening
Less and less.
More human, less beast
As Love and time go on.

I even begin feel within me
Something beyond the human, 
Countours of some light-form
I've never been aware of
Already travelling, 
Dancing, on the wind .