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?