The Caterpillar

Born.

 A being open to suggestion, open to form, open to influence.

A constant intake of sound, visual and texture,

Adapting as time progresses.

Eyes follow the mother in an attempt to imitate,

Beings that all will ultimately become.

A sibling brought into the world,

Ready to be shown its way.

You take her hand. She follows.

 Careful to step within the imprints that you have left,

To take the righteous and learned path.

A caterpillar lies in the middle of the dirt road,

Writhing, looking up in its ugliness.

Seemingly helpless, with inability to grow, develop, change.

A thought of putting it out of its miserable existence,

A means to end that which was nothing at all.

For the tiny creature surely cannot amount to any substantial achievement.

Yet, with a thought of its potential, in remembrance of wise words,

You move the being from the hazardous path, to a grove,

Realizing that it differs not from yourself.

As you watch its transformation,

The petty worm sheds its shelter

And flies away into the distance,

Ready to amaze the likes of wandering children on a summer’s eve. 

Reviews

[Athena Ramos]

BEAUTIFUL!! -i'm so sorry for the very short review. i'm lost for words! wow!-