The Price of Becoming

Butterfly kisses surround open wounds, healing us from the places where we never learned to fly.

Caterpillars that hang onto branches tight,

dreaming of a world beyond entrapment.

Beyond a world stuck in a clear cocoon,

always looking outward but never really getting there.

Do you think they know who they’ll become?

That beauty awaits them.

A transformation of colors and patterns across broadened wings.

Will they mourn who they’ll no longer be?

Questioning why freedom had made them look so different. Was I not beautiful before?