I’ve been,
Crawling,
Down on the dirt,
On my abdomen.
Searching,
For a tree,
To hang from,
To set the butterfly free.

This skin I wear,
Encases me,
When I’ve molted,
I will be free.
I will wiggle off the confounds,
Of bone and flesh,
Of space and time,
And of birth and death.

I was once,
A baby larva.
Eating my birth leaf.
I was so small and hungry then,
But I have eaten enough now.
It’s time to harden,
This old soft skin.

When I pass,
Through this knot,
In the infinite,
Line of life.
I will squirm out of my biology,
Taking on a whole new body.
That’s beyond all senses,
Beyond our limitations,
Beyond our imaginations!

Butterfly!
You call to me!
Butterfly!
You will be free!
Your time has come,
You have been waiting,
For this moment,
To break out!

That inner beauty is shining through,
Becoming that apparatus that moves you!
Listen to the rhythm of the beating butterfly wings!

Am I,
Just an isolated ray of sunshine,
Or am I,
The one behind the sun?
Am I,
Just some burden for light to bare,
Or am I,
The one who will bare the light?
Am I,
Just some insignificant speck,
On a spinning ball?
Or am I,
Something so much more?

I tricked myself so long ago,
Thought I was nothing more,
Than a worm on a tree,
Stuck to the a sphere,
Spinning out to nowhere.
This body is just an egg,
That encapsulates me,
Soon it will hatch,
And I will be free.

We are all larva,
We all have a butterfly.
Come and crawl with me,
Get down on your abdomen,
We are going to find a tree,
To hang from upside down,
And set the butterfly free.

Cautiously walking up those famous steps
made of sparkling and shimmering stone,
he inhaled the mist from the tops of the clouds
when he suddenly realized that he wasn’t alone.

In front of the massive iron rods stood St. Peter,
so calm and collected, yet his smile seemed hollow.
The gatekeeper’s keys jingled and he said, “Welcome to Heaven”
as he opened the gates and motioned for him to follow.

Peter led him through a kaleidoscope of his memories:
playing fetch with his dog when he was ten,
smoking his first cigarette in the school locker room,
running through Vietnam with his Buddy, Ben,
kissing his redhead under the banner that read Bride and Groom,
the first time his daughter prayed and whispered “Amen.”,
seeing his first grandson on the monitor while in the womb,
and cursing at God for letting his cancer come back again.

His 82 years of life flashed before his eyes
as he walked alongside the keeper of the keys.
When they reached an oversized solid white door,
Peter turned towards him with such grace and ease.

"Beyond this door, is your own personal Heaven
and what lies ahead is what your heart craves most."
His blood began to pump faster and faster as Peter
pushed the door open to reveal a bright blue coast.

He nodded a thank you to the Saint as he stepped
through the doorway and his toes touched the sand.
He inhaled the crisp sea salt air before an angel whispered,
"I’ve missed you" as she gently grabbed his hand.

His redhead wore a smile brighter than stars
and she wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace.
Just then, he noticed a man in white walking towards them.
She leaned in and whispered, "Are you ready to see God's face?"

The Hindu girl was very poor.
Christianity offered her a better life.

The church bribed her to Christianity.
All she had to do was very simple.

She was very beautiful and slim.
All clergy wanted her to be their exclusive Ecclesiastical Ecdysiast.

I walk through Hell
To heal the fallen angels
Because halos shine brighter
In the glow of the underworld

They've abandoned God's light
In search for another
For within a sinful plight
The hater becomes the lover

And perhaps I'm them
trapped beneath an expression
Because in place of my God
I am stuck in depression