Cocoon-{a #poem}

I slip on this chosen shelter, hide

within silken walls and wonder—

How long will these layers hold?

Fragile pearlescence surrounds me-

who’s to say? My shattered self

is still, waiting.

Gauzy quiet and singular,

barren days envelop

me by the hour. I take pains

with my words, listen more,

defy the urgency of unnecessary

things. Spinning a private

insulation preserves me

heart and mind, a soundless

cushion while my soul heals.


No one can chart a butterfly’s

birth. Not really. Skin is shed, the

surprise of color shocks as wings

unfurl, breathing life into deep-

down cells.

Chrysalis—gold. All that remains

when death is past and days

have vanished. New life comes,

unfurls its way to the neverseen.

Eclosion complete, I raise my

wings and fly.


This poem is an edited version of a previous post, written after my daughter and I experienced the events of September 11th, 2001. You can read my original thoughts about cocooning HERE.

Header photo credit: Peter Ethan Collins

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One thought on “Cocoon-{a #poem}

  1. Cocooning certainly describes the last 15 months of isolation. And though colors may not have shocked us as we emerged, the joy of smiles, touch, and raised our wings to fly free into the world again certainly shocked the senses. Lovely artistry with words–as always, Jody!

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