"I cleave the heavens, and soar to the infinite. What others see from afar, I leave far behind me." Giordano Bruno (1548 – February 17, 1600)

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Once you were...

Once you were...

Once you were just always there...it seems;
a friend to pass…what now seem a few moments in time.
Changeovers have sadly and slowly occurred,
so, know, I find you now truly someone to depend on.

Once you were just…well…you I suppose,
of significance but not of great importance.
Now due to certain unhappy circumstances,
converted, you have become my rock... to lean on.

Once you were just like the tiny caterpillar.
Small, colourless, and not much thought of;
confined to the mediocre chrysalis of which is life.
Now you have mutated to magnificence.

Once you were only that infrequent voice,
warning me not to trust, to take infinite care.
I failed to listened, then seeking you in my despair,
trusting in you, revealed to me how you really cared.

Once you were so mediocre and damn…so very normal.
Just like any of us when we dare to face truths reality.
Your deed has transfigured your humble being,
to a state glorified in…well pure exalted brilliance.

Once you were always the quietest of achievers.
You still are very quiet, in so many respects.
Your fame is a quiet one as it is your own reflection
never to be transformed by the shadow of another’s.

Once you were so complicated in spoken word,
but with your patience, you have finally succeeded
to make me understand the substance of the deed.
Translated into much simpler...normal tones of speech.

Once you were just a touch too dour by far.
Now you remind me of those silly birds we used to watch,
all multi-coloured, curious, so raucous and so outrageous.
Transmogrified, you have become my dearest jester.

Once you were like the commonest of base metals,
of a somewhat, certain passing commercial value.
Now as if the alchemists have finally succeeded,
you are transmuted to the richness of pure gold.

Once you were just an elemental simple soul,
needing to exist only in that space in the life,
that is for a time awarded to each and every one of us.
Transubstantiated, you are now glory personified.

Once you were just there...unnoticed...I must admit.
Situations make us, I understand who we are.
You have ceased to be who you once were,
now you have metamorphosed to who you really are.

© W. Heron, 2008

Originally titled "Metamorphosis"

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