Open the book to pages blank, I, larva born alive, open, new, turning this life’s’ page, pupa, turning page, chrysalis encapsulating me safe, warm eager to too feel freedom. The comforts of light and darkness, sensing me entombed, darkness, being nourished, coddled, doted, protected…
Turn the page. Metamorphose, still, writhing, flailing, stretching straining to free from this bond.

Turn the page. Rebirth, excitement stretching, taking in new life, sensations of wonder, intrigue. Restless desire to reach to the breeze about and begin a journey in this, new life, powerful, strong aching to explore what is so new to the senses and learn more of these mysteries. Floating, darting, eyes bright, mind free to open to this newness of it all. Resting here & there taking in all that surrounds me. Time, something to which, I unaware nor care to know of. Exhilaration, without expectation or obligation I hover, flitter and roam.

Turn the page. Growing weary as the unending journey calls for rest to re-nergerize. Falling into a dream with reflections of this gleeful journey called life. Slowly, surely an undaunted sense of breath light slipping, teetering on this swaying reed, the inn, which gives me respite from this wondrous arduous journey. Fading reminiscing on what has been without regrets for the awes having experienced. Releasing my weakened grasp falling reaching the earth and dust from which I rose, espying the last of it with hopes of grace and dignity, I die.

Turn the page.Grateful for what has been and will be in my eternity of, Life!