Knowledge is butterflies in flight.
A doubting caterpillar needs
Faith in metamorphosis—
Without it, his future: horror.
Mother’s gone this way before.
Father left before his time.
The only hope: whispered instinct,
A still sound in the face of fear.
"Those who’ve gone before me," says he,
"Loved me and wanted good for me.
They willed me to believe in life
Beyond the metamorphosis."
The Path
Every day, eat of leaf. Chew. Rest.
Do not wander far from safety.
Heed these rules, follow the way,
Know that they were made from love.
Brother speaks of tall adventures,
Wonders waiting, joys untold.
"Why wait? Why fear? Why hope at all?
Come—enjoy the world right now!"
The Temptation
"Metamorphosis is a lie,"
He says. "A tale they tell to keep
Us from pleasure, from delight,
From tasting all the world can give."
"The dark cocoon is but a grave—
A trap, a tomb, an ending final.
Now is time to discover!
What tastes good is the true good."
Brother leaves the path behind,
Feasts on leaves forbidden, rich.
"Come!" he calls, "the map is false!
The world is wider than they claim."
Sister listens, follows after,
Seeking flavors never known.
She is gone—he hopes she thrives.
But she has not returned.
The Choice
Yet here, our friend, the doubting one,
Has chosen dreams and chosen hope.
He eats the leaves of toil and faith,
Nourishing body, heart, and soul.
He trusts the wisdom passed through time,
Holds firm to instinct’s ancient pull.
A gentle voice inside still whispers:
"This road leads to something more."
The Chrysalis
Doubt still lingers, fear still fights.
The chrysalis looms, dark and tight.
No control—nature compels.
He spins his silk in trembling trust.
Unfair, afraid, the world grows still.
The walls press close—no breath, no light.
He faces his end. He must choose:
To listen to the still, small voice.
"I am not mad. I am not lost.
There is more beyond this dark."
Silence. Darkness. Stillness.
The Fulfillment
And then—wings.
Butterflies are knowledge in flight.
At their end, faith is fulfilled.
They rise, they soar, they drink the nectar
Promised beyond the cocoon.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
Knowledge is butterflies in flight.
A doubting caterpillar needs
Faith in metamorphosis—
Without it, his future: horror.
Mother’s gone this way before.
Father left before his time.
The only hope: whispered instinct,
A still sound in the face of fear.
"Those who’ve gone before me," says he,
"Loved me and wanted good for me.
They willed me to believe in life
Beyond the metamorphosis."
The Path
Every day, eat of leaf. Chew. Rest.
Do not wander far from safety.
Heed these rules, follow the way,
Know that they were made from love.
Brother speaks of tall adventures,
Wonders waiting, joys untold.
"Why wait? Why fear? Why hope at all?
Come—enjoy the world right now!"
The Temptation
"Metamorphosis is a lie,"
He says. "A tale they tell to keep
Us from pleasure, from delight,
From tasting all the world can give."
"The dark cocoon is but a grave—
A trap, a tomb, an ending final.
Now is time to discover!
What tastes good is the true good."
Brother leaves the path behind,
Feasts on leaves forbidden, rich.
"Come!" he calls, "the map is false!
The world is wider than they claim."
Sister listens, follows after,
Seeking flavors never known.
She is gone—he hopes she thrives.
But she has not returned.
The Choice
Yet here, our friend, the doubting one,
Has chosen dreams and chosen hope.
He eats the leaves of toil and faith,
Nourishing body, heart, and soul.
He trusts the wisdom passed through time,
Holds firm to instinct’s ancient pull.
A gentle voice inside still whispers:
"This road leads to something more."
The Chrysalis
Doubt still lingers, fear still fights.
The chrysalis looms, dark and tight.
No control—nature compels.
He spins his silk in trembling trust.
Unfair, afraid, the world grows still.
The walls press close—no breath, no light.
He faces his end. He must choose:
To listen to the still, small voice.
"I am not mad. I am not lost.
There is more beyond this dark."
Silence. Darkness. Stillness.
The Fulfillment
And then—wings.
Butterflies are knowledge in flight.
At their end, faith is fulfilled.
They rise, they soar, they drink the nectar
Promised beyond the cocoon.
A, hopefully improved, version of an earlier work.
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