Advice from a Caterpillar
When I was an egg, I too, clung onto leaf in shaded safety, hidden underside. And fastened by a pinprick of belief I dared to dream I was a butterfly.
A hunger hatched. I ate the home I knew then inched along the disappearing green. In shedding every skin that I outgrew, became a hundred times the size I'd been.
And now I'm spinning silk to fix my spot Outside remains. Inside I'm changing things. This caterpillar's planning on the lot; proboscis and antennae, four bright wings.
So keep on changing on, my ovoid one. For who you are has only just begun.
© Rachel Rooney