Resting thoughtlessly under the shades of life, never thinking ahead,
Nothing new did come by, it existed but worse than dead.
Like the last spark of a fizzled out fire,
A thought jolted it back to life, it now obsessed with a keen desire.
Yes, it was those bright, free to fly, soaring high,
It too wanted to metamorphosise from a caterpillar to a butterfly.
Diving deep into the world of knowledge, ate voraciously,
Clock ticking away, it desperate to accomplish its journey.
It so tiny would often be lost in the woods of words,
Distractions aplenty, an odd threat from the greedy birds.
Leaves, worms, insects tricked it; surrendering, it wanted to quit,
But it saw the butterfly, the endless sky, and greater grew its grit.
And as the age old would say
No determined has a full grey day.
The time did arrive, it perched on the gifted leaf,
And began its new journey driven by self belief.
As it weaved, it toiled, hassles hitting hard from all side,
Canst deter him to common silk for excellence it strived.
Patiently constructing its chrysalis, within it it would be poured,
By moments of madness, togetherness, wisdom, all things it so adored.
And now in its year of genesis,
Inspired from ones with developed chrysalis.
Ever awe struck by they who are the indirect propeller
of the infant, on the verge of detaching from their cremator.
And when this tiny caterpillar sees those greeted by the open sky,
Of those transformed by spiritual resurrection, it too wants to become a butterfly.
The butterfly- the vast skies are its playground, enhancing nature’s pristinity,
No sting, it just spreads smiles, making the world pretty.
But the caterpillar is warned, and it does deeply realize this,
Its only after surviving, fighting the pains has the butterfly attained bliss.
And thus this caterpillar is all excited to embark upon its journey,
Because it’s the journey that transforms into destination,
Just like the butterfly from the caterpillar after spiritual resurrection.