Chrysalis Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

The dark blob of a cloud
unfolds into a patch
and a chrysalis is born.

An ant too pops out
from dust's pupa,
a speck of dust on earth's deck

incubating the thousand
dollar bill dropped

from a heavy-cheeked millionaire
full of song and gong.

Mother of the world
swirling in sky's bullet hole,
a scratched dot sinking

into a crater to erupt
with the snaky drawl
of a politician's river mouth
watery as the soft-rippled lake

flowing with sparkling gems
into the rolling eyes of a crowd
sipping and licking every trope,

waving the sharp sword
of light oozing out
from the round bouncing
jewel of a pregnant lie.

(ii)

Every sky jumps up
from a chrysalis,
a wind-drifted lock of hair

knotted and dropped off
by the double-shouldered
wing span of a sailing falcon

shot into a trip
beyond mountains
of waves and hilly clouds climbing
ladders to the full moon
wearing light feathers in its pupa.

When a late afternoon sun
shines through the window
with a moon's feathers,

the politician's eyes float in with
more moons, the only sun
bouncing out of cloudy hands,

the truth of a butterfly
bouncing out
from a rainbow's wings settling
on dwarf shrubs of dusk.

(iii)

Still breathing out
silver-leafed branches
of stratus clouds

spilling off light patches
of light to stand on the swelling
evening tree of dusk.

Grab the stitched
and interwoven moths of evening

diving into the pupa
of an early star popping out

into the silver butterfly
of a moon-lit evening brighter
than the sun hatching clouds.