cocoon diaries

You think you know how this ends?

Place a caterpillar next to a cocoon,

A cocoon next to a butterfly.

Evolution is a funny process,

Its a liar and thief,

Though a mother and a teacher

The way in which time,

A silent promise we make to endure throughout our lifetime,

Works it’s magic like a low simmer,

Working all the way through you,

Leaving you tender if you let it

During this time,

we notice the pace and change of our own phases and cycles,

Noting each time you spot a new freckle, 

Or your hair grows,

Or your hips widen,

And maybe even the time you grow wings

We tally these things on our skin,

dating our own evolution,

Like trying to see the curve of the earth under our feet as we walk,

Moving through time with a rope tied around our waist,

Anchored to each step and shift that got us there,

Hoping that if we study each knot in the rope we will know how things work out,

Like our fate is black or white

The caterpillar says a prayer as the time comes to evolve,

Gulping in the face of change that it perceives as its final moments,

Taking a second to stop and thank the grass and dirt for their hospitality,

Sewing its own casket around its body until its corpse is hidden

The next time the caterpillar awakens,

It thinks it is a ghost,

Rising above its grave,

Confused as to why its soul is parallel from an empty casket.

Until its mother and friends stare in awe of its wings

It then realizes,

evolving is a lot like dying