Monthly Columns

The Chrysalis – Poetry

 

 

A time of harvest,

And a time of shedding.

Of death, and beginning anew.

 

Dark nights bloom as ravens song.

And moon on ravens wings.

The chill of the air and the crunch in the leaves.

 

Crisp apples and the scent of decay.

The lingering smoke of spent candles.

Coalesces with the smoke of the fires.

 

Tears, as we honor the memories, 

Those who have gone before us.

The fetch the water for the next generations.

 

As I shed my skin,

As I crawl into this cocoon.

I dissolve.

 

Knowing my depths.

Demons of the deep ocean,

And stygian deep.

 

Grand chaos.

And the monster known as death.

Now motivates my actions.

 

The pupation state.

To which I must now die.

To attain metamorphosis.

 

My self becomes amorphous and the dark.

Like death without an identity.

Just an eldritch force pushing the earth.

 

In that abyss I see,

The ancestors and the lessons.

Pushing through agony.

 

Until these volcanoes burst

Our triumph, 

As we emerge.

 

With wings.

 

**

About the Author:

Alexiel Raynes is a shaman, philosopher, and musician from Louisville, Ky. He has studied religion and science for over 20 years. His spiritual path focuses on self realization, the liberation of the constraints of the mind on consciousness. He also studies plant medicines and their use in indigenous cultures world wide. He is fascinated with exploring the world beyond the veil of mainstream western science, and postulates at what lies beyond general consensus reality.

For contact visit Facebook.com/AlexielRaynes2020

Or email [email protected]