DAY 9 DETOX POEM — BUTTERFLY
The cocoon is giving claustrophobia
This was the perfect day to bust out my butterfly nails. I’m feeling my feels in this quickly jotted poem of introspection.
Butterfly
I’m cocooned in a promise.
In a chrysalis of process.
Waiting, always waiting for my wings.
The date of delivery is determined
by disciplined undeterred —
or so I have convinced myself of this
that I may no be longer deferred
from seeing this thing through
to the end and beginning.
Truth is, even as a caterpillar crawling low
Or climbing high high higher to tree tops
from many different pastures
in search of leaves greener —
I carried my wings in my demeanour
knowing they were somewhere deep inside.
I had to realize I only needed to decide
to slow down
to prioritize
to rest in the peace
that passes all my understandings of why.
Why it was I had to crawl before I could fly.
Why I had to isolate and be hidden in plain sight.
Why sitting still for a while would teach me flight.
I had to learn about time.
That though it may not altogether stop,
there was a time to live
a time to die
a time to be reborn —
And in this case of my encasement
there such a time combined.
In this tomb of transformation
My soul thrives as my old body dies,
I ache to return to the skies.
I give thanks for what helped me survive,
but when these wings are primed
I’m gone!
