‘Metamorphosis’ 🍂🍁🐛

“What’s happened to me,’ he thought. It was no dream.”  ~ Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

This stunning performance on the harp by Lavinia Meijer, of Metamorphosis II by Philip Glass, plus a lovely violin and guitar duo make a perfect accompaniment for my poetry on the subject. I hope you enjoy the music, the prose and the paintings!

‘Metamorphosis’

What is this force that draws me, inexorably towards you?

The Earth’s four seasons, unfaltering, come and go,

Red, orange and yellow foliage now proliferates,

Love, like burnt leaves, clings precariously,

To rustic boughs; fearing annihilation from the gusts of life.

Pompeo Mariani - Autunno

Pompeo Mariani – Autunno

Thoughts and feelings transmute like the elements,

Hot for a time, cold the next, perhaps even icy…

But passions warm like a glorious autumn day,

Lighting up your life while they burn and glow; evolution

Is inevitable, yet the heart yearns for what has passed.

The Stone Bench in the Garden at Saint-Paul Hospital by Vincent van Gogh

The Stone Bench in the Garden at Saint-Paul Hospital by Vincent van Gogh

Learning to embrace the wisdom of changing seasons;

Both life and death. All effort against nature is futile,

Souls are forged within molecular metamorphosis,

Dipping in and out of an infinite, primordial panoply,

Merging with other souls, individual but connected.

Apple Picking at Eragny sur Epte c. 1888 by Camille Pissarro

Apple Picking at Eragny sur Epte c. 1888 by Camille Pissarro

The concertina caterpillar chews quietly on his leaf,

Unremarkable on the surface, evolving inside his chrysalis,

Hidden from the world, he is overtaken by energy,

Emerging from his self-imposed cocoon transfigured,

All of life is metamorphosis, an explosion of alteration.

Jupiter, Mercury and Virtue by Dosso Dossi circa late 16th Century

Jupiter, Mercury and Virtue by Dosso Dossi circa late 16th Century

The new butterfly tests his dynamic, vibrant wings,

Fluttering to and from the sweet scent of flowers,

Thus an old heart may beat to a new tune,

But it remembers the shared music of before,

Where unforgotten melodies are woven into DNA.

Autumn Leaves by Sir John Everett Millais

Autumn Leaves by Sir John Everett Millais

A new phase, a new masterpiece will be written,

As the trees release their golden halos, ready

For preordained progression, so it is with spirit.

The journey of metamorphosis and rebirth carries us

To infinity, where we are ever the same – yet different.

~ By Virginia Burges

Autumn c. 1904 by Edward Atkinson Hornel (1864-1933).

Autumn c. 1904 by Edward Atkinson Hornel (1864-1933).

Philip Glass on the piano playing his Metamorphosis IV and V:

“I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.” ~ Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

#SundayBlogShare – Autumn Foliage 🍂🍁

Anyone in my social circle may suspect that October is my favourite month! Last year I collated some beautiful poems, paintings and literature in the post Ode to Autumn.

Camille Pissarro

Camille Pissarro

I hope my own words can cast a ray of light on your Sunday and paint some worthy burnished pictures in your mind…(alongside some Impressionist beauties)!

Autumn Foliage

You don’t possess the scorching heat of Summer;

Yet your warm palette brightens my soul.

Flaming tones of yellow, orange, ochre and red,

Have committed green to verdant memory.

Febrile fronds merge and sway in unison,

A kaleidoscope of colour ablaze on my retina,

Nature’s last jump for joy, before Winter comes.

Camille Pissarro

Camille Pissarro

I see tinted, vivid leaves clinging defiantly,

Radiating their seasonal light like a supernova,

An explosion of ephemeral, golden bloom,

Before they are ripped from branch and bough.

To be tossed and discarded,

On the breath of exuberant winds.

Swirling, withering petals of vibrant tincture;

James Tissot

James Tissot

Eventually laid to rest…

Creating a carpet of luminous pigmentation,

Dry and crisp under boisterous boots,

A final burst of spirited and spicy intensity.

The burnt hues of Autumn will soon be gone,

Leaving my eyes bereft of beauty.

Wind whistling long…

Pierre Auguste Renoir

Pierre Auguste Renoir

Through the bleak, bare trees of winter.

Empty conker skins and mulchy leaves break down

Their recycled atoms dormant until spring,

Waiting to power tentative daffodil buds.

Death and decay, the cold season brings,

For renewal means to die and to be reborn;

…Even more magnificent than ever.

By Virginia Burges

Camille Pissarro

Camille Pissarro