Beneath the
Humdrum Shell
a poem
Beneath the Humdrum Shell
September 10,
2026.
According to astrology,
a day of new
beginnings.
Acknowledging
that some things have to end
in order for
the new to begin,
I find a small
bird skeleton,
wing feathers
still attached,
ribcage exposed
in a compost pile.
Two
butterflies, a black swallowtail
and a painted
lady, attempt to alight on my hair.
A cabbage white
is not disturbed when I walk
close by her,
feeding on a dandelion bloom.
A shield bug
lands on my pinkie finger,
rides with me
for a short moment
on my journey,
then flies away.
Are these
insects reminding me to return
to my youth,
before feathers and the search for hope,
when wonder
crawled before me everywhere?
Before worry
grasped my fingers and thoughts?
Not to end the
pursuit of these symbols of flight,
but to show me
they are a reminder
of what I
already have:
the expectation
of good in every day
if we only look
for it,
the dream of
beauty in another soul,
the promise
that the ride of life
will be fulfilled
with unbelievable miracles.
Today is a day
of new beginnings,
a return to the
core of who I am,
who I used to
be before the world took hold of me,
shook at me,
created a shell to cover
the strangeness
I hold inside.
Venus, beware!
Beauty can be
defined in many ways.
And this eccentric
mishap,
this offbeat
mysterious oddball
is not ready to
have her life narrowed down anymore.
Astonishing?
Extraordinary?
The first crack
in the shell appears.
There, a prism
of light.
What wonder
lies beneath;
what eldritch
wings, folded, will appear?
by Julie S.
Paschold
aka Tansy Julie
the Soaring Eagle
9.10.26
For more, see https://jpaschold.com