Imagine the stark fear to fill his heart—
Nothing short of miraculous could make
The lowly, timid caterpillar start
On his chrysalis. He would feel the ache
Already if he knew most of his legs
By the end of his long sleep would be leaving.
Upending liquid courage by the kegs,
The worm would discount the powerful wings
To come and give him freedom now unknown.
Escape fantasies and fear would appear,
Ruining his good future with questions why;
Forgetting all the love that God had shown,
Longing to avoid the change he so fears,
Yet, in the end, reborn, at last, to fly.
November 5, 2016
I have done something awful. Yep. Me. We have been getting a series of phone calls on the house line from old boyfriends and creditors for the family that moved out five years ago. I spend a lot of time trying to convince these people that Melinda, or Belinda, or Lucinda, or whoever it is they are trying to reach at my number that this number now belongs to someone else. It gets old. Plus, in the end, I am pretty sure these callers don’t believe me even though I am telling the truth. So, on the last call, just to change things up a bit, I answered with, “You know, it’s been days since I wrote a new acrostic sonnet, and I’m getting a little impatient. If you want to, you can pray for me. . . uh, hello?” Now, of course, if friends or family connected to me and mine had been on the line, they would have laughed this off, then assured me that they would be delighted to pray for my next poem.
However, I can’t honestly say that whoever called me by mistake on Friday didn’t pray for this poem. Because — drum roll, please — on the way home from a date at the movies with my husband Friday night, the title and acrostic for this poem showed up in the dark in the car while my husband was driving. Cell phone to the rescue! I was able to capture most of the words in my notes app and then after we finally got home, the rest of the poem mostly finished itself, with the last revision coming to my mind just as I was waking up yesterday.
In other news, I hear that the word “coincidence” is not found in the Hebrew language. Hmmmm.