Shape-Shifter — NaPoWriMo Day #16 — a poem about being mentally strong
Your efforts, cute—your presence, much less so.
But my patience is built on bedrock
and your abuse blows away like snow.
A weaker creature
would have become unhinged
when you transmogrified our relationship
from symbiotic to severely chaotic—
would have puffed up and freaked out,
blown up and stormed out—
smashing glasses and flinging plates
on her way out the door.
She would have cursed you
and poisoned your reputation,
telling everyone who would listen
that you were barely worth the mention.
That you were evil,
that you were vile,
that you were cruel.
But a higher power touched me first,
sending shockwaves through my bones
and turning my weak parts into stone.
Golden orbs that see all
filled my sockets
in place of light-sensitive eyes.
Feathers that repel the elements
sprouted from my human skin.
I'll never flinch at your lowness again.
I'll sleep soundly and worry not.
Your tiny swipes are no match
for my great six-foot wingspan.
Your whispered flurries are no match
for my blizzard-stirred avalanche.
Photo by: Todd Steitle