Daphne Transformed

As if in a transcendental state, I proudly call for swift justice from my relentless pursuer, a way to escape this infernal chase whose outcome desire or até for Eros’ revenge wins!

An answer draws me inward as outward closes in—all of life stands still, and moments mimic infinity…

Flushed blood thickens and crawls altering from Ba-bump-Ba-bump-Ba-bumping of sweet flesh memories to a constant and slowly creeping seeping; a quaternity surrounds, quieting…

Concurrently, a tingling sensation envelops as I float while sinking like an anchor, returning to the gently tossing waves of the womb of Earth….

Vision clouds as brightness nears, hearing transports from waves processed to waves felt and known reverberating through my hardening essence; everywhere joins within, dancing ceaselessly….

The zeal for hunting turns to an appeal for communing as I drink fully of the Earth from straws in my toes and suck the soaking sun—not vaingloriously—through waving veins of waxy jade capillaries. I sigh; my bows to the souls of those once captured now songs of tribute ‘tween wind and luxurious boughs.

Whence the culprit, who unconsciously fashioned my sudden transformation, approaches in stupefaction, in amazement, still drooling over my beauty, yet passionate and pushing hard for my woody new self, I frantically try squishing him, thrashing him with my branches, whipping him with my twigs.

However, all of this commotion he sees as divine rapture for his touch and embrace of my barked skin. He misperceives me bowing to him and pledges eternal vigilance and honor by wearing pieces of me about his abhorrent brow, which purpose gives instead an elemental dishonor unforeseeable by blind passion.

How could one be so blind—especially one who hounds awareness? Who desires their hair ripped from their head or from their body in plentiful handfuls?

What ignominious ignorance is this for one to think tearing me asunder would confer bliss!

Confess to Earth your transgressions against her daughter, her sister, your wrongs; nay do not stoop to snipping or ripping off my branches, twigs and leaves to further dignify reproachable heroes of violence!

Instead, revere me from afar as memories of youthful vigor keep in mental recesses. For, I would rather, like Persephone, fall into Earthly crevices than to have my name sullied by the sport of clashing egos!