Metamorphosed Poem by O. A.

Metamorphosed

For Alice (1911 - 1997...)

You are not dead
You are not deceased
You are no fathomless tragedy
Binding our bloodline --
But you've spurred a touch of envy in me.
I'll accept this muddy mix of sobs and runny make-up,
And even the hollow carcass you've left behind
Like the larva of a butterfly;
The ice-warm feel of your parched flesh against my hand,
And the nonexistence of your puckered kiss
       in this world
But I will not cry anymore --
Death is merely the pupal stage of life.

Out there in the void of time and space,
Somewhere within the pillars of cloud
I know you are making your way...
Cradled on the sweeping Eastwinds
Climbing the opal sky to a better place,
You are floating on the pearly wings of faith
Like a butterfly
Like an angel.

The child you knew, you know again
You have flourished into a Sun-lit frame of mind
You have pushed through the Earth's tarpaulin
        and bloomed,
Bloomed in the misty garden sky;
Beautiful? -- you are...
And I am envious.

So I'll accept this quick departure
It was beyond your humble hands...
And I will choke my pride
In mending the broken hearts you've evoked...
But I will not cry anymore.
Not while I know you are loop de looping
        around the stars...

O.A.