Metamorphosis

Spiritual arsonists, she says
She burns one thing she’s attached to
Every single day
Eliminating all that is unnecessary
Making room for all that is better
Laughing through these themes of
Fire and ice
The cleansing, sweeping through
The brush of life and living
All that is accumulated, all that
Weighs the self down not like roots
But like icicles on trees in the spring
Reaching further and further to
Puncture the earth and instead just
Reflecting the sun until they dissipate
Into nothing like the self
Like us on clear days when we’ve
Harnessed these rays and sparked
The peaceful fire within
Crowned with a golden smile

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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