I once thought I was
a caterpillar
on a journey towards flight,
leaving earth to touch sky
in pursuit of full butterfly.
But change can be slow and hard.
Some days I felt near flight.
The next, still wrestling in the warm wrappings of the chrysalis.
And other days,
I felt I was simply snacking on the nearest leaf,
blissfully unaware of the change I so desperately needed,
that full butterfly is always preceded
by darkness and isolation
within a chrysalis of my own creation.
These days, I realise that I am not one but many.
Out of step, irregular, chaotic and messy.
A crawl of caterpillars.
A confinement of cocoons.
A flutter of butterflies.
All at the same time.
There’s the
'staying-patient-in-traffic' butterfly,
alongside the
'learning-to-say-no' chrysallis,
alongside the
'other-people’s-feelings-are-not-my-responsibility' caterpillar.
I am many.
And I’ve made my peace
that the change I seek inside of me
will look more crawly and hairy
than I’d like it to be.
But amidst the
earth crawling and
leaf eating
are wingèd, nectar-sipping royalty.
And over the years, I know I’ve seen
a slow, cautious trajectory
from earth to sky,
and some days I catch a glimpse
of what it might look like
for me to become
full butterfly.