I wonder.

Did the caterpillar know she would become a butterfly

When she spun her chrysalis tight around her?

When she floated in dark nothingness,

Dangling by a thread?

 

In that deep, dark still point,

Did she have fears, regrets, tears?

Or did she trust the process,

Patient in knowing that something bigger than her understanding

Beckoned her to obey?

 

I wonder if I have the courage

To cradle my suspended heart

Within a web of utter Not Knowing.

Can I surrender completely to the void

That lies between exhale and inhale?

Can I freely trust the mystery of Life

Until the moment when I, too,

Feel a surge of new life pulsing through me,

And my quivering wings tear through the shroud of whom I thought I was

To reveal whom I have become?

 

Metamorphosis

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