Transformation
I am a creature trapped in transformation
a shape of a being
bearing no definition
shape of a human
shape of a female
shape of a creature
an animal that is not
I am not
Yet I am
I am trapped between rebellion and acceptance
Stilled in rebirth by questions
Is it possible to change a world while in orbit?
If I had made the answer 'yes' I would have left long ago
Do I owe loyalty to a species?
My answers are alive
Seeding, spawning, growing, multiplying
Is the harvest a number on an ancient calendar?
Or should I eat them raw and unripe?
Would they ripped in my belly?
In my womb?
Would I give birth to a thousand answers to a thousand unknown, unasked questions
like frogs in the grass?
Does rebirth require sacrifice?
Will I have to forget to remember?
Give up what I have been in order to be what I am becoming?
Or can I keep it safe in an object
and wear it around my neck?
Will it be too heavy?
Where do abandoned I's go?
Do we trade them unconsciously?
Our cores shedding and donning them like shiny new skins?
Will this new creature desire to wear one
or will it somehow walk upon the earth with the glowing bones and guts and flesh
of a soul exposed?
Honesty so pure, transparent:
"This is the true I. What I am made of is luminous, and so never afraid of the dark."
When I am that, and only that
where will I be?
What will I be?
Only me?
Will I dwell in the sky or in the sea or anywhere at all?
Would I become something intangible like an intuition?
Or would a sound still be required,
an utterance or an echo?
Or would I float or buzz or hum
in silence so that hairs of others stood at world's end?
Would this new creature command fear or love
and would it be alone or have others?
Where would such creatures dwell?
How would they live?
Would we feel closer or farther away
from unseen destinations?
Or would distance have any meaning
at all?
written September 2007