OctPoWriMo #2: Changeling

Like a mermaid twisting in the green surf,
always on the outside, watching, dreaming,
you shift over and over,
not realizing
how much transforms with each turn,
not just the loss of those iridescent scales,
or the ability to breathe underwater,
or to sing with the fishes.
You gave up your voice.

Aren’t we all changelings, shaped by our hopes,
promises made under summer’s sun or
winter’s cold, that chance meeting, a forgotten book, or a thread of melody heard long ago?

I only know this: I would choose
to be a changeling all over again
if it brings me here, to you.

Today’s poem for OctPoWriMo comes from my long fascination with mermaids and a sense that each decision we make brings change – sometimes unanticipated, some with great loss, and some with a sense of coming home.

Tomorrow’s prompt: Womb. Why not join in? http://www.octpowrimo.com/