each tiny plump egg grows
until it splits from the seams
spring forth
go on, and live
you are your own.

and so each tiny worm
has a leaf it's own
it begins its journey
not even two inches
from it's only home.

and lowly creatues that we be
we eat our way
to destiny.
summer monthes spent in sun
rainy days and
windy ones.
fat and fatter still
the goal is eat beyond your fill.

no control
no idea
eat, eat my friends
the foliage never ends

one day in late light sun
we begin to realize
the horrendous damage we have done.
the rose bushed we have chomped
and nothing left but bare stalks of flowers
so thin
so worn
so tired...
suddenly so admired.

we are like a virus
in our path,
all we devour.

realization strikes us swift
and we begin to undo the pain
the misery and bloatedness
the days spend sheltered from our own rain.

in a cacoon wrapped so tight
plan to sleep for a fortnight
forever, even more
the pain... it's too much for one worm.
the cacoon, tight and tighter still
will enstil
the ulitmate goal.

and yet with time spent
away from food,
one grows glorious wings
and a small slender stick
body with perfect tiny legs.
it's like a miracle intended to right the wrongs.

so it wasn't death
it was what was coveted
all along.
perfection.
mirrored in our own
and each reflection

a butterfly sweetly replenishes
the stolen fruits,
brings beauty to the world..
colours vibrant
such a delight...
if i too let time pass by
will i 
become a butterfly?


xxoxo
Ellie J