The Strix – Metamorphosis

Biological speaking an example is the butterfly. Evolve out of the caterpillar into a butterfly
happens automatically, it’s a natural process. The caterpillar trusts in the power of nature, trusts her own instinct, and becomes a wonderful creature.

Mythological speaking an example is Zeus, God of Ancient Greece, who transformed himself
into a bull to seduce Europe, a goddess of love. He succeeded and brought Europe to a strange
continent and left her. Aphrodite, Goddess of love, found her there and said:

“Let the bridle and grumbling, pretty girl! The hated bull will come and offer you his horns; I’m
the one who sent you this dream. To your consolation, it is Zeus that robbed your virginity: now you’re the earth goddess of the invincible god. Immortal your name will become, since the
strange continent that has absorbed you, shall be called from now on Europe! “

Magical speaking wizards and witches transformed various objects and people for good and bad purposes. A Prince turned into a frog by a witch, could only transform back after a kiss from
a Princess.

We don’t have the powers of wizards and witches, gods and goddesses.
We do have the power to think, to transform to whoever we want to be.

Who do you want to be?

Patty from Kruidje-roer-me-niet


It had been there for days. The small, mint green bud, hanging by a small stem, on a small plant
in her backyard. Lilly wondered what Mr. Tiger was planning. She called him that because he
was black with vivid green stripes all over that reminded her of a tiger. He had hidden himself inside that thing for more than a week. Lilly was very worried at the start because she couldn’t feed Mr. Tiger his lettuce anymore, the way she did every day before he wrapped himself up.

She complained to her father about Mr. Tiger. Was he upset with her? She didn’t want him to
leave so soon. Her father chuckled and carried her so she could see outside the kitchen window where Mr. Tiger was cocooned.

“Do you think he’s sleeping?” She had asked.

“I think he’s planning a surprise for you, Lilly,”

She squealed at that. Lilly loved surprises. Since then, she had made sure to check on Mr. Tiger every day so she wouldn’t miss her surprise. Today, Lilly did the same. She sat watching the small bud, which had changed a lot in the week. It had a pretty pattern on it and she wondered if
Mr. Tiger drew it himself. Just as she did, it shook.

She reared back in surprise, gasping. Its happening! It shook again and Lilly leaned closer so
she could see better. His antennas poked out first and then. . . She furrowed her eyebrows.
Slowly, the shell around Mr. Tiger fell away as two beautiful wings emerged.

“Surprise!” Her father smiled, crouching next to her.

“Daddy! What’s happened to Mr. Tiger?” She couldn’t look away from the emerging ‘Mr. Tiger’ even for a second. He wasn’t green and black and chubby anymore. She watched, awestruck, as his new and delicate wings expanded, after being squished in that magic bud.

“He’s changed now into a beautiful butterfly, see?”

Lilly saw him test his wings out, spreading them across his back.

“But why?”

“Well. . . That’s how nature works. It’s one way nature shows us that beauty is in simplicity. And
if you allow change to occur, you can morph into something beautiful, like Mr. Tiger did,”

Lilly watched the butterfly flutter, taking its first flight.

Michelle from Psychedelic Bay 


And now she rises, immortal,
From the million fallen pieces,
The ones she combined after all,
Afraid of the dark faces,
She feared every fall,
For she be but still fragile,
She still grew inside her,
Like the little fire, cold for a while,
And that which burnt bigger now,
Somewhere deep within,
It made her grow,
And so she did,
Along with burns and scars,
She bolstered the joints,
She stitched those pieces,
And grew further, towards the stars,
She grew,
Whole, elegant and new,
Born again from the million pieces,
That the dark had broken her into,
Now she fought with the night,
Using the ever growing fire inside.

Kashaf Shaikh from awordwarriorsblog 


Have you heard of the story of the ugly duckling? I’m sure we all have. And as kids, we might
have even dreamed of a similar transformation–when you finally grow into a woman’s body with the perfect curves, or for the boys, to grow strong, with 6-pack abs and big biceps. That’s all
good and well. But not all transformations are physical. There are some that take place deep deep down in our being. Like the one I’m about to tell.

This is a story about Sammy and Samantha.

Sammy runs around the house riding her broomstick pretending she is a witch. Her broomstick would take her everywhere she want, from the great castle called The Bedroom, to the
enchanted land of The Yard. Samantha runs her breath out trying to catch the bus.

Samantha is horrified of sweets! She’s on a strict diet, you see. Sammy’s favorite food are cake, candies, tarts, pie, and oh!..candies.

Sammy believes on princes and fairy godmothers, of tales about love, valor, and living happily
ever after. Samantha’s living her own love story, where there’s no prince or kingdoms or castles
to be seen. In fact, she had her heart broken yet again. A fairy godmother would be most
welcome now.

Samantha only sings in the bathroom, where no one can hear. Sammy sings to the beat
of Timon and Pumbaa, even when half the class is listening.

Sammy would have fun under the rain, jumping on puddles and chasing her dog round and
round the yard until Mom tells her to get inside. Whenever it’s pouring, Samantha sulks under
the mattress listening to emo songs.

Samantha walks out and locks in her room when scolded. Sammy listens and apologizes.

Sammy is excited every Halloween because it’s the only time she gets to put on makeup. Samantha does it almost everyday to hide her puffy eyes.

Samantha. Sammy.

The two of them are so different, don’t you agree? They are almost opposites, actually. But
would you believe me if I tell you that they are one and the same. Surely, the metamorphosis
did not happen overnight. It took years, but she didn’t notice herself changing day after day.
Until days became months, and months to years. Until finally now. What happened to that
happy girl who used to laugh and love the world? What have become of her mirth? Why does
she feel heavier. How can she fly, with all her heart’s burden?

Fly. Can a cocoon fly?

No. Not yet.

Alpe John from juanderingartist


The greatest of tales as narrated by TIME
Witnessed to go beyond eternity
it’s about a journey
That started with a little warmth
A magical experience so soothing and calm
Minutes passed and then did hours
Gradually, the warmth turned Cruel to heat unbearable
Species of all kind, started to pale
The journey slowed down, even came to a halt
Life was about to declare its extinct
Glaring up to the sky with hands two folded
They decided to pray for a little mercy
It happened then – a secret miracle
The Sun metamorphosed to a Moon
Bringing a breeze to shower the life
The Orange started to turn into white
There was no heat, the journey was smooth
Life, taking its time to relish the cool
Inevitable, the cool progressed to freeze
They all had to wake up from their dream
Once more, they all decided to pray
Looked up to the sky, then closed their eyes
Their lips murmured a few words of magic
And the Moon metamorphosed to the Sun

Zigyasa Kakkar from Mysestina 



First bated breath:
powder blue to flushed pink
fragile, screaming, dependent, weak
infantile form, vulnerable, soft and pale
downy fuzz, eyes blurry, seeking milk

Cells divide, new tougher skin grows
heart pounds with skeptical hope
in time learning to walk, run, trip
hardier human form takes shape

Thrown callously into earthly wake
millions of eons of history before her
being hardened, jaded with pain
she smiles past precarious pasts

Opens her molting heart fast
shedding scars each time it cracks
it only heals stronger, adapts

Metamorphosis perhaps…

That predictable constant — change
the only thing that stays the same
in time she has shed herself, become
a whole new her, never succumbed

Entirely new heart, new eyes
new love, new breath, new skies
to view upon the broken world
with hope that truth optimizes

Her constant redesign, her rebirth…

Until one day…wings sprout forth
from her back, set her to lofty flight
above the looming black, into the light
her white feathers illuminating her path

Transformation complete

…she soars.

Emily Clapper from PoetGirlEm 



Expressions Crossing Continents

Inspire each other...

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