The metamorphosis
This fuzzy cocoon
This groggy self
Alien body the Moon
Heavy Earth gravity
Hear myself, hear myself
Alone, no identity
Pushing, wriggling out
Suffocating feeling
Waiting to grow my wings and spread out
Waiting to break free, dying
To fly
For now I sing the melancholy song
For it has been far too long
So far I have been wondering
Feeling, feeling and suffering
So perhaps is best
to surrender in this nest
I should get my paints out and try
To paint the wings of Me Butterfly
To all women out there going through the perimenopause, I am hoping to create a multimedia expression of this work. I am planning to represent this poetry, my menopause journal, through a multisensorial experience. Calling all artists out there for a special collaboration.
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