how far does
“going to be a butterfly”
go?
I bet a caterpillar knows
even as the caterpillar goes
through cycle and change
as it might get estranged
from the cold and familiar
bold but unwilling
the mess that life becomes
all the process
takes you from
while sequestered to cocoon
I wonder if it ever wonders,
soon
or sooner
wandered into the doom
of unknown and expectation
the fears that come with chasing
the years that come with patience
the dark
and the noise
the timing
and the void
how does it feel
lying on a back
that will one day have wings
but at this moment only being,
eventually
oh, the angst
the mystery
or could it be…
knowing that one day you’ll fly
helps you crawl
knowing that you can run,
helps you fall
I bet a caterpillar knows
as the caterpillar grows
stowed away for purpose
considering the situation,
service
earned by no fault of its own
lest you forget your stumble
once you’ve flown
I wonder of the promise
that the caterpillar has known
fluttering with infatuation
inebriated by the cadence
of color and pattern
caveat, the latter
but nothing assumed
because the caterpillar
is still a butterfly
with some growing to do
and it always believes that
its season will come
as sure is the sun
until it is done,
no matter how much
I would like it to be,
sooner.

-see

©2015 Cornelious “See” Flowers
@seethepoet