The Butterfly I Am

I write poetry about once every two years. Sometimes a word, a phrase, will tumble out of my pen and connect with others, but it isn’t frequent. So when Rae Lynn Sommers tagged me in a challenge to write poetry…

This pushes me very far outside my comfort zone.

I am a scientist. I am a thinker. I write prose, not verse. But…I will give this a shot. I hope it suits.

The theme for this prompt is the New Year. I don’t have a poem exactly like that. However, I began the New Year as a new woman. This poem fell out as something I intended as a gift to my wife, but lost the courage to give her — did I mention I’m not a poet?

My wife has not seen this until now.

Thank you, Kitten…you are the reason I stay alive.

The Butterfly I Am

The caterpillar I was
Has met its demise.
Fools are quick
To point out
I can no longer be
A strong man for you:
Full of bluster,
Ready to fight,
Eager to kill,
Inexorably pushing forward.

Luxuriantly quiescent,
Eager to heal,
Ready to soothe,
Empty of guile:
A gentle woman, truly me,
Is who I have been.
Observing silently,
The wise take note
Of a glorious rebirth — 
The butterfly I am.