The Cocoon

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about change and self-actualization.

Submitted: June 15, 2007

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Submitted: June 15, 2007



She was restless from too many years of doing good,
everyday practicing her recitations like she should,
and going out to gather berries in the woods,
she never went farther than her mother said she could.

Holding in the will to run and play,
in the meadow past the bandit's glade,
became too difficult that lazy Sunday,
and she alighted to the place her mother had forbade.

Skipping down the darkened path,
she began to giggle and to laugh,
a snarl answered from a canine's den,
then the wolves began closing in.

Growling, snarling, foaming at the lips,
they reached between her hips and her body they split,
from inside the blood came fast and thick,
like from the belly of a bloated tick.

Her mother found her white and red,
lying on a grassy bed,
and pulled her into a deep dark cave,
praying that this was not her daughter's grave.

The girl's eyes opened again on a bright summer day,
she wanted to leave the shrouded cave without delay,
but her mother was afraid after her past foray,
and begged the girl to stay.

But the girl was again tired of the calm and dark,
and of being held inside the maternal ark,
so once again her mother she defied,
as she stepped warily outside.

Standing in the sun she heard a growl,
she was afraid the wolves were still on the prowl,
but as she turned to go inside,
she spotted a lonely dog in the corner of her eye.

He smiled with all sincerity,
and told her that she was lovely,
when the wolves did come he held them at bay,
so she invited the dog to stay.

For years the dog never left her side,
and she was happy for a time,
but soon she learned that the dog could lie,
and on him she could never rely.

She decided that he must have some disease,
but she couldn't ask the dog to leave,
he would beg her as she turned him away,
and besides--he held the wolves at bay.

One afternoon the dog had left for the hunt,
so the girl went and sat on an old tree stump,
and while thinking of how best to let him down,
she saw a bird land near her on the ground.

The bird cocked his head and gave her a sideways smile,
then he offered to let her fly with him a while,
and when she learned how it felt to soar so high,
she wondered why people were afraid to fly.

Returning to the dog in the night,
she told him--and she was well within her right--
"No longer will I listen to your lies,"
"For now I have learned how to fly."

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