Metamorphic incidence
Tangibility unchallenged till today
How can something grow in reverse
Regress into the warp mirrors of its past?
My idealism, my naivete' clings to linear
and stalwart ideas of progress
Ah, the sting of my backward thinking
The cocoon of misdirected judgment
Iridescent wings shifting, catching wind
Plummeting to origin, the spiral eclipse
Never touched, but once felt
You are standing still.
Wendy S.
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