Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Poem: Molting

Molting

I am growing
My shell hurts
It hurts it hurts!
I cannot shed it
I try and try and try
I fight
I seek allies and help
I fight
One year, two years, nearly three


I'm free
My shell suddenly releases and slides off
I can feel my soft body expand
To my real size
Bigger
Joy!

Oh!
They're attacking!
Why why!
My brothers! My sisters!
My partners!
No!
Your claws hurt!
They are cutting me
Ow ow stop why!

I run
Scuttle sideways
Soft and clumsy
Scurry
Hide
In the mud

Why why?
Oh, my wounds ache
Stabbed by multiple claws
Deepest pain
In my heart
At this betrayal.


I hide
I sit
I think

It was so hard
To shed my shell
Why would they attack?

Oh!
Their shells hurt too!
Their words
They were grabbing me
To see how I'd shed my shell
They were desperate
Oh they must be in such pain!

Can I forgive them?
Do they know not what they do?

I hide
I sit
I think
I heal

My shell is strong now
I am bigger

I will go forth
And see who is trying to shed their shell
I will try to protect the newly molted.

8/16/05

3 comments:

Shunra said...

Well put.

I wonder whether riding to the rescue is the right response. What, I wonder, would have helped me at each stage of molting?

Red Paw said...

Not riding to the rescue so much as staying present. My experience was that many people and many that I thought would be supportive weren't. I think our culture doesn't support that sort of change -- no, it's not really ok for you to withdraw, do interior work and you'd really better not talk about it to most people or else you are crazy. Hopefully some people have a less difficult time.

Shunra said...

Staying present - funny, what a great gift being present is.

You'd think the linguistics would clue us in :-)