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I see you dad,

still inside your frame.

Transforming despite

my initial resistance.

Flesh continuing to

encase bones.

Organs carrying out

their steady responsibility.

Your mind, however, can

no longer remember your

history nor much

of your present.

It’s ok dad, I know

you are pulling into

the quiet space of death.

I am no longer afraid.

Your slow extrication

is appreciated.

I get to hold your hand

awhile longer.

I know that your body,

this shape that you’ve

dwelled in, is not the

truth of who you are.

Now, you’re weaving

a cocoon out of your skin.

Who I knew you to be

is dissolving within.

Like a caterpillar, your

known form is becoming

completely liquid inside.

Only your shell is recognizable.

However, I know that you

really have not gone anywhere.

You’re sweet soul is deep

inside this temporary casing.

Like a butterfly,

the essence of you

still resides amidst this

temporary enclosure.

You don’t have to linger

in the dark any longer.

Why would you want to

when you can fly?

I think I’m beginning

to see scratching

against the chrysalis walls.

Open your wings dad!

I will dance with you

in the meadow.

Grateful for being witness

to your metamorphosis.

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