THE BUTTERFLY AND THE FLOWER | Motivating and Inspiring

THE BUTTERFLY AND THE FLOWER

Silently I wait
As the time creeps by
Like a caterpillar within its cocoon.
Waiting and waiting
For the beautiful butterfly to emerge.

You can't see it change, rearranging its life
But deep within you know it is all happening.
Everyone knows the beauty that lies within
But not to its fullest extent.
It is only the caterpillar that truly knows.

The curiosity builds and everyone is waiting,
They say "now is the time".
But she does not emerge when they speak
For she is not prime.

A few more twists
A few more turns
Within the tiny cocoon
And the most beautiful thing anyone has ever seen
Will come forth into life and bloom.
The true intensity of her power is rarely known to any
But one sweet special flower will experience her intensity.

With each stroke of her wing and the gentle grasp of her feet
Her touch will intoxicate him.
No matter who tries to capture her heart
She always returns home.
Home to were the honey is so sweet
The nectar is so indescribable
But to touch and taste
Feel and smell
No other will ever be beside her.

No one can match every piece of her he has touched.
No one could mask her eyes quite as much.
For her heart is content and feels at home more than she ever has
But the fear does not cease or change her path
For it is what has to come to pass.

A lesson is learned by each who encounters her
And crosses beneath her wind
But only the special and true of heart
Will ever know when it begins.

The caterpillar is not quite beautiful
Or interesting to any
But a pest and a nuisance
A waste of time to oh so many.

Until she sees that beautiful flower
And attaches herself to him.
Which then begins her peaceful sleep
And all the changing within.

For the flower is truly who's changing her
To the beautiful peaceful creature she's longed to be
And no one could ever see what's within or lies beneath.

Only the flower who opens his eyes
To and beyond the present
Will ever get to experience
Her and the very sweetness of her essence.

Copyright © 2004 Jennifer D. Springer


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