Metamorphosis

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Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis

If you are LIFE

I shall dress like a sunbeam.

If you are DEATH

I shall grow whispering wings.

If you are JOY

I shall fling a scarlet sash around my shoulders.

If you are PAIN

I shall wear mud boots.

If you are HOPE

I shall light a candle that can’t be extinguished.

If you are DESPAIR

I shall don a hat that hides my eyes.

If you are HAPPINESS

I shall become the tingling traveling along my spine.

All these feelings tumble in my kaleidoscope

giving my dancing shoes no rest.

 

The Divide

Life is risk.

I can stumble even on an uncluttered path.

In a flood I need a lifeboat,

and running from a rockslide

the agility of a mountain goat.

The line between life and death

is as precarious as high wire.

I hope to go to my death

with eyes wide open,

soaring as if I were a glider,

and hovering in the stillness,

taking in heaven and earth

one last time.

 

Midwestern Ancestry

My husband’s people are

hardworking, uncomplaining,

carving values, setting limits,

and giving the young

a foundation solid as a rock.

 

Only if the rock is porous,

has crevices where raindrops gather

then merge into rivulets of hope,

allowing algae and moss to find footing,

and squirrels to bury nuts,

and birds to spy fallen seeds,

only then can an airborne plant

with strange purple blossoms

and spindly emerald-green stalks

take root, survive and flourish.

 

Stranger in a Newfound Land

 

My husband’s people are

hardworking, uncomplaining;

carving values, setting limits,

and giving the young

a foundation solid as a rock.

 

 

Only if the rock is porous,

has crevices where raindrops gather

then merge into rivulets of hope,

allowing algae and moss to find footing,

and squirrels to bury nuts,

and birds to spy fallen seeds,

only then can an airborne plant

with strange purple blossoms

and spindly emerald-green stalks

take root, survive and flourish.

 

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

For a new grandson

Anticipating a birth

is like days before Christmas

when our ears burn with curiosity

and we have owls’ eyes, and we can see in the dark.

Now your mother’s senses are heightened,

picking up every gurgle,

feeling each kick.

And we wonder

what will you look like?

What kind of person will you be?

Snuggled in your tender womb-place

as in a cozy nutshell,

your feet are firmly planted,

ready to thrust you through the birth canal

into the arms of a welcoming world.

 

RUNGS

The higher a child climbs

the greater the need for a safety net.

From tiny feet marks

to large footprints,

from breast to bottle,

preschool tears to college woes,

the parental umbilicus stretches

until one day the cord falls away

and balancing high above, the net ignored,

the child beams a confident smile

to the parents who exhale

with relief and admiration,

— and a hint of nostalgia.

 

The Secret that Only Babies Know

A duckling forms a permanent bond

with the first object it sees—

mother duck

who clucks to it to follow.

A human mother relishes

the sweet nectar of her baby,

its breathing comforts her,

her hands move tenderly

all over its tiny body,

her lullabies are a soothing sleeping potion.

 

But a baby knows best

the smell of its mother’s skin,

her morning smell,

her evening smell,

her summer smell,

her winter smell.

There is no other!

 

I spool back the years

and inhale my mother’s scent

whose fragrance remains

like a tropical flower’s after nightfall.

My little hands reach up

as I bury my nose

in her neck

and recall its enchanting aroma

long after I am back in grown-up time.

A writer from youth, German-born Ute Carson’s first story was published in 1977. Her story “The Fall” won the Grand Prize for Prose and was published in the short story and poetry anthology A Walk through My Garden, Outrider Press, Chicago 2007. Her novel “Colt Tailing” was published in 2004 and was a finalist for the Peter Taylor Book Award Prize for the Novel. Her second novel “In Transit” was published in 2008. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals and magazines here and abroad. Carson’s poetry was featured on the televised Spoken Word Showcase 2009, 2010 and 2011 Channel Austin, TX. Her poetry collection “Just a Few Feathers” was published in 2011 and her chapbook “Folding Washing” in 2013. Her poem “A Tangled Nest of Moments” won second place in the Eleventh International Poetry Competition 2012. Her website can be found here: www.utecarson.com

An advanced Certified Clinical hypnotist, Ute Carson resides in Austin, TX with her husband. They have three daughters, six grandchildren, a horse and a number of cats.

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