a small little cocoon, hanging from the branch of a tree,
up so high, a tiny little Butterfly.
the small creature wiggles inside, pushing out with her powerful wings.
once she’s outside, she flaps her glorious crimson wings,
she takes her first steps, as dainty as a swan, teeter-tottering on the tree.
she remembers when she was just a caterpillar, before she was a Butterfly
she remembers how much she wished to be able to fly away, to be a Butterfly
she remembers what it was like, when she didn’t have wings,
and as she’s there, trying to decide whether to fly off the tree,
the Butterfly lays her antennae back, ready to fly away into the night sky with her beautiful wings, and to leave the tree she once called home.