Transformation in the human
Is not so obvious as in nature
We arrive at the melting pot
And overthink
The very brink
At which it occurs
Repeatedly.
The caterpillar doesn’t know
How not to grow
It follows instinct into the cocoon
Obliterated it waits
Its wings don’t appear
They self create
And at some point
An entire tiny being
Is decimated
For a new version
To take its place
So if the chaos surrounding
Is become intolerable
It may be that you are being
Made just enough vulnerable
To shed all that was never yours
And make space
For your destiny
To arrive
After reading this post, I wondered if my mother had an ulterior motive for encouraging us to grow silk worms when we were kids. Interestingly, the silk worm’s destiny shows that change in one direction or another may be inevitable.
Cheers
DD
This is poignant. I guess a butterfly cannot choose either nor the moth or dragonfly – the alternative is death. Nature is the undeniable force – evolve or die. Perhaps we are the same but our death is inside. Dreams that are tucked away in safe places become rot for the soul.
I’m hoping it’s not too late for me to get my wings …
gosh I really hope so Kate. I really hope so.
beautiful piece. Mike