*A green, lowly worm
Doomed by sluggish motion
Longs for a new term
Fights for a promotion
Crawling to the nearest leaf
The climb up the vine was arduous
Survival, a lone belief
Learning the “way of life” seemed strenuous
Instinct, its automatic action
The worm falls to sleep in the moonlight
Unaware of its splendid reaction
When it woke, surprised by the brilliant sight
Blessed, beautiful wings
Land feels no more of a limitation
Bountiful flowers blossom where it sings
The butterfly now glides with boundless sensation*