WillSpirit!

THE WOE OF TOAD

After tremendous effort,
And years of practice,
I achieved transcendence.

I arose from the turbid swamp of unconscious life,
Stagnant and eutrophic,
To a meadow tessellated by wildflowers
And brush-stroked with illumination
And sunshine.

With fierce concentration
I meditated on my malformations
Until my shadowy tail shrank,
And legs appeared,
Folded in permanent yogic posture.

Enlightenment became my lifestyle.

My gills closed,
Protecting me from external perturbation.
Eyelids grew to seal in contemplation.
And I began, miraculously, to breath.
At last I could count my respirations
Straight into satori.
Now every day I croak my mantra,
Mindful and awake.

But it’s not enough.
Every princess tells me so
As she wetly osculates my warty head.
Each one insists
I’m ripe for another transition.
It doesn’t suffice to have risen out of darkness,
To have broken free into clarity and light.
I must again reshape my being,
Undergo dermabrasion,
And hire a voice coach.

It makes me wish I’d been born a monarch.
My metamorphosis
Would have been so much more impressive:
My wormlike form ensconced
In a sarcophagus of my own creation;
My body melting and reforming with mysterious grace;
My weightless and delicate wings
Unfolding in the golden afternoon,
Iridescent in the late day sun;
My saltatory flight into the autumn sky
Carrying me on an epic migration
To the lively beaches of Mexico.

But my karma shaped me into this:
A squat form hunkering on a narrow path;
Cursed by kisses;
Fodder for slobber;
Victimized by starstruck lasses
And their insatiable dreams.