Contemplate the caterpillar
In chrysalis, no longer is it itself.
The wall came fast, stopped you hard.
Blood slithers down your face.
Soup, it’s a gooey transformation
Messy as bed hair, messy as a wet dog waiting to come in.
There is no way past this wall, this stopping place,
And no hole to dig your way out or through
Or a detour pointing out another way.
Take it, drink the bitterness, and swallow hard
As you lick the blood and claim your story.
Then just as you feel yourself dissolving, all you knew now gone,
To look around and realize you no longer recognize your life.
Do you recognize your life?
Cocooned in your comforts you almost forgot
Why you embedded yourself there
Until there comes that time to break out of your chosen prison
You never realized or accepted just how beautiful you are,
That you have always had the ability
To fly free.
The caterpillar is ever aware that in its heart, it is the butterfly.
What do you know yourself to be?
What do you know of this knowing, this flight of freedom?