Transfiguration

"Retreat within the mind evisioning
the place where your serenity resides
and using the manifestation of your self-actualization,
sail there."

By strings of color
interwoven and vaguely familiar,
there drew a hammock constructed of light
to which the hands were never seen.

Like the arms of a thousand mothers,
my hammock craddled, while the feeling of
technology's binds indefinitely loosened and
the digital syringes extracted themselves
from my dehydrated veins.

I am an aged caterpillar
now swaddled by strands of luminescent beams,
watching the fallen world dissipate beyond
my cocoon sheets.

I wept,
"All Mother, why do they not recognize my beauty?"

Her whispers crashed as oceans in my ears,
"They can not recognize what they have never seen
my one, now sleep."

A season passed and I broke loose
from the frozen shell of my chrysalis,
the sleep still being wiped from my eyes
to open and catch sight of a sea full of stars,
an endless ocean littered by the whitest moons
and the slow rumbling passer-by of planets.

Dusting off my wings, I slow danced to
this orchestra of astronomy.

Singing,
"I am freed from the static noise of this modern earth.
I am alive."