For what I cannot say.
Some strange fierce beast
May yet emerge,
Undreamt of in philosophy,
Unspoken in our time.

No polite creature,
It didn’t wait for conception.
No act of patient creation
Or standing in time.

It stretched, and grew,
Composite and whole,
Though the eyes that see can’t tell:
It yawned, and, looking out,
asked its riddle.

Published by Marushka

I dream curiosity and write words that change brains.

2 thoughts on “Cocoon

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