The Puddle and the Butterfly

It's been cumbersome. Oh so heavy, so troublesome! All these years. Especially recently - these last several years. It has been almost burdensome. This cloak that shields my light; protects my integrity. This cloak of anonymity.

I have, of course, let some take a peek. Opened my ruffle. But not to too many. Only to the just enough. Though it has been mostly impenetrable. So damned heavy —this cloak of invisibility. I wasn't truly aware. I remained hidden - even from me.

I have, of course, been accustomed to its weight. All these damned years. Its apparent frivolity. Its disguised rigidity. Its undeniable flexibility. But its been wearisome. Those of knowing the secrets - the truths. This cloak of obscurity.

I have, of course, allowed short reprieves. A few times. All these long years. From its narrow protection. Its false shelter. Its obvious obstruction. Of shining my light. Of lifting my wings. Of hurling my voice. And it has been a weight-some secret - this cloak of inscrutability.

It is time, of course, to transform this heavy, awkward, clanky cloak into a weightless, airy, ethereal chrysalis. It is now time. To let go - to release the unburdened butterfly. Let its unique wings unfurl. Give life to every garden. Speak of the fairies who craft dreams from light and whisper hope into the wind. It is time.

And yes, of course, it has been heavy. All these years. But they are over. Forgotten. As if the cloak has never been. And with a resonant song on the wind - it has become a puddle at my feet. And with a new lilt to the sunlight - it has become a refreshing pool of reflections. This cloak of opacity no longer.

It is me, of course, the holder of light. The shaper of sound. This is what it has become, this cloak - oh so clingy - from which I have emerged. The sustenance for my growth - consumed and absorbed. Unmistakable metamorphosis

For, of course, the call has come at last ... Shine Forth! Life heals. Love nurtures. Beings shine. BE! SHINE!