Fly

Little caterpillar,

born so free,

free as the wind,

or so it seemed.

Little caterpillar ate and ate and ate,

ate so much until it had to hibernate.

Little caterpillar wrapped itself so tight,

thread by thread,

until it felt just right.

Little caterpillar grew and grew and grew,

grew so strong,

letting go of all that it once knew.

Little caterpillar was ready to come out,

pushed against the walls all throughout.

String after string,

little caterpillar broke free,

flew so high,

as high as it could see.

Little butterfly finally flew,

and saw other butterflies just like it, too.

Red, orange, yellow, green, violet and blue.

Little butterfly no longer felt so small,

because it realized

it wasn’t so different after all.

Fly, little butterfly.

Fly.