Metamorphic Metanoia

This week, continuing my summer of poetry, something a bit biographical and a bit whimsical. The story of all of our lives — if we let it be.

Metamorphic Metanoia

Hungry to know,

I’ve always been hungry,

devouring every juicy thing I find,

volumes of green delicacies at hand,

turning leaf after leaf to feed my mind.

Knowledge grows all around me —

I’ve fed on this stuff since my birth,

branching out in exploration,

yet clinging to the solid earth.

 

But now…

something other is calling me,

something other is drawing me out on a limb;

searching within myself, I’m suspended

between known and unknown by a thread so slim.

Hardened to the world of amassing,

where seeing is believing is the norm,

I sense deeply the freedom of my soul

and wondrously transform.

Wet and weak with my fragile newness,

I wait on the precipice steep,

then strengthened by inner prayer I lay open

and, with untried faith, I leap.

Falling into a new world,

I see what I never knew before —

flowers, nectar, bright open skies —

on the breath of God I soar.

 

What once was unbelievable

is unreal no more.

© 2019 Christina Chase

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Photo by Maggie Wernet on Unsplash