Transformations
THEY Wait
the caterpillar, the flower bud,
time is like a hand that does not compel
them, because by its unnoticeable grace
the process goes on and on
the caterpillar is caressed into a cocoon
in still air
stiller hours
of petals falling one by one
giving way to seeds
existence
the buds have no memories
what to tell
how one morning they all turn
into flowers
then wilt
upon the conquest of
sunset
some things too
have wings that flutter
happily
but only for
a day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Monarch
That butterfly I knew.
Pretending to be just a caterpillar...
With nothing else to do.
Crawling upon a branch,
And on leafs I saw it chew.
I watched this masquerade...
And stayed focused on it too!
That butterfly I knew,
Then tried to hide itself...
Inside a cocoon!
That butterfly I knew...
Inside that cocoon grew.
I saw a wing of beauty appear.
With designs of color too!
Did I imagine this in sleep?
Is that caterpillar pulling on me...
Some magical trick or treat?
And then it winked at me and flew away.
As if to say to me in flight...
'I wish I had your time,
With nothing else on my mind...
But to sit and contemplate on ways,
On how to waste my days and life!
I've got things to get done and do.
Do you? '
And this Monarch,
Away flew!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Butterfly Who Can't Get Out of His Cocoon
There was a mother butterfly
Who wished to have a female child
But out of his lain eggs in the meadow
She wasn’t sure if her wish was granted though
Then one baby caterpillar came out
From his broken shell he crawled up
With so much blessings around him
He grew faster and changed his skin
The caterpillar then became a pupa
Hung upside down on a woody plant
He surpassed the strong wind
Through the calamity of life he stays in
The time has come for the pupa
After slowly changing his shape inside
He has to crack his own cocoon
He has to let his wings out soon
But he prefers to stay inside his room
He just made a small hole in his cocoon
Through this he gazed and took a scene
He fears the outside world may not admit him
He noticed his mother butterfly
Patiently waiting outside
She’s very much excited
For her child to come out
Though the young butterfly
Experienced pains and struggles inside
He decided to stay in the cocoon
Than to give his mother a great frustration
How can he get out of his world?
He wanted to hide his true color!
He will ignore the longings of his heart,
His love for the bees than flowers with nectar.
poem by Rose de Ramar
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A fable about the bee and the butterfly
Once upon a time
In a warm spring day
The bee flied far away.
It has left it’s shelter
To collect the sweet nectar
From the beautiful flowers
Using God’s dower.
When the bee flied over the field
Alas, it couldn’t see the caterpillar
That crept in the grass.
The caterpillar looked at the bee,
Looked at the sky with yearning,
It also wanted to fly,
Learning the world around
And not to creep on the ground.
Burning with passion, tearfully
The caterpillar said hopefully:
“I love you the bee.
I would agree to do anything
If only I could fly with you.
Don’t tell me adieu!
I haven’t any view from the ground
I just feel to be bound.”
The caterpillar was lost in tears.
Having enough sufferings during the day time
It has fallen into a deep sleep
As there was no more strength to weep.
But when it woke up in the morning chime
It thought it was still a dream time
As it could now fly into the sky,
It turned into a butterfly.
The same morning having seen the butterfly
The bee’s heart melted with joy.
Oh, boy! It was in love at first sight,
Together they would have a wonderful flight.
Now they are flying together
In the fields, in the woods, in the gardens
And their love hardens.
The flowers give them
Their sweet nectar to drink,
There is no troubles to think.
The fable, I’ve told above,
Doesn’t need a question: What is love?
Everyone understands it in his own way.
What else can I say?
This fable was written on the motif of an old French song 'L'Abeille et Papillon' (1956)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Butterfly
Constantly creepin' caterpillar,
Still a swoon in a cocoon.
Soon you might emerge,
And you're made to emerge.
A little longing to love, lush,
Starving for affection.
Hidden by the size of my perfection,
With one exception...
If you wanna butterfly,
You gotta be a butterfly.
You know that nothing falls out of the sky.
Still a swoon in a cocoon.
If you wanna butterfly,
You gotta be a butterfly.
You know that nothing falls out of the sky.
How do I hide somebody from the great blue wide?
I'll come and sweep you up,
'Cause your time ain't up, be patient.
Now you see the sun is rising and your realizing,
Wise enough to know,
That you gotta let yourself grow.
If you wanna butterfly,
You gotta be a butterfly.
You know that nothing falls out of the sky.
Still a swoon in a cocoon.
If you wanna butterfly,
You gotta be a butterfly.
You know that nothing falls out of the sky.
What goes around comes back around;
This is nature's way.
Be conscious of what you do,
Because you will be repaid.
If you put turnips in the ground,
You will not harvest grapes.
You are what you attracted,
And this is why I say;
Uhhhhhh...
If you wanna a butterfly,
You gotta be a butterfly.
You know that nothing falls out of the sky.
Still a swoon in a cocoon.
If you wanna a butterfly,
You gotta be a butterfly.
You know that nothing falls out of the sky.
Constantly creepin' caterpillar,
Still a swoon in a cocoon.
Soon you might emerge,
And be made to emerge.
Maybe...
Still a swoon in a cocoon (repeated MANY times!)
Uhhhhhh...
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Love) Caterpillar
My love goes to you alone,
Because I know what you can become.
I will be true to you, every minute waking.
You may just be a caterpillar to them
But to me you're a butterfly in the making.
And when you spread those wings of yours,
They'll all look at you, flabbergasted and dumb,
And know why I stuck with you,
A caterpillar that no one knew
To a butterfly where no one knows came from.
poem by K. Jared Hosein
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Playful Fingers…
He kisses me like a caterpillar
Curling in a sun aroused flower
So playful is his desire his ardour
My carpel wishes are to enclose
Around that: wincing thorn of pleasure.
To entrap alone his stamens tongue!
Amidst; the sepal-hips of my thighs
Now to cocoon, locked, playful fingers
And petal wings together.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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The Little Cycle Of The Flower And The Caterpillar
the flower may curse
the caterpillar at first glance
consuming its leaves
greedily
rushing for the next stage
of its life
then the silence of the cocoon
where the flower
doubts
and then the excitement
of the birth
of the yellow butterfly
the hope of the flower
and when
the flying begins
the flower unfolds
blooms
and the consortium begins
the nectar flows
and the flower
turns into another fruit
back
to its seed form
as the butterfly
nears its span
like a glimpse
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Glimpse
the flower may curse
the caterpillar at first glance
consuming its leaves
greedily
rushing for the next stage
of its life
then the silence of the cocoon
where the flower
doubts
and then the excitement
of the birth
of the yellow butterfly
the hope of the flower
and when
the flying begins
the flower unfolds
blooms
and the consortium begins
the nectar flows
and the flower
turns into another fruit
back
to its seed form
as the butterfly
nears its span
like a glimpse
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cocoon
watch the caterpillar
struggle and build
creating its cocoon
to hide
for a while
for all the noise
for all the views
focusing
on its own
take your time
waiting for a miracle
doing noting
or your own
wait for the butterfly
coming out
and fly
watch
you'll know
and why
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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When The Flowers Bloom
when the flowers bloom
do not wait
till they wilt
their petals falling
on your feet
do not take much of the time
witnessing such death
for at the end
of this cycle
when all the petals have fallen
and what is left to see is just an empty sepal
and a very lonely stalk
you shall be reminded of your own
you shall be next, the season waits
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ambition And The Caterpillar
basically it is the story
of a caterpillar
kicking other cocoons
and hundreds of feet
it takes a lot of hard
work not to see what lies beyond
up there
there is nothing, we know it,
yet why?
why this kicking of asses?
why this
blunder and plunder?
we know that at the end
the caterpillar turns into a
butterfly and
flies away and become gone
from our eyes,
yet where? where is it now?
all we see are broken wings
of dust beneath our dirty feet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Co - Existence of The Good And Evil, ... Metamorphosis ...
a flower cannot be
without its sepal and
petals
the leaves grow
around and below
the stem pushes
it straight and
through
a thorn co-exists
a caterpillar
climbs
and soon as expected
a butterfly
hovers looking for
the nectars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cocoon
I want to hide leaving all the burdens.
Which is penetrates me day & night.
Why this unusual wake up early in the morning?
And I fight with the life for nothing.
Dear Caterpillar, if you like
We can exchange our bodies and souls.
I prefer your cocoon better than this open prison.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Caterpillar
Im a caterpillar
Im a caterpillar
Crawling for your love
Crawling for your love
Crawling for your love,
For your love.
Im a butterfly
Im a butterfly
Flying for your love
Flying for your love
Flying for your love,
For your love.
Well, Ill be anything that you want me to be.
Baby, Id even would be a-climbing up your tree.
Im a pterodactyl
Im a pterodactyl
Dying for your love
Dying for your love
Dying for your love
For your love.
Im an abominable snowman
Im an abominable snowman
Calling for your love
Calling for your love
Calling for your love
For your love.
Well now baby, Ill be anything that you want me to be,
Baby, a big monkey, a little monkey, a chimpanzee.
Oh now,
Im a caterpillar
Im a caterpillar
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
For your love.
Oh baby,
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
For your love.
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
Falling for your love
For your love.
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem of Love on a Spring Morning
When my eyes
For the first time
Chanced upon your eyes
Haven’t I seen
A familiar flutter in the lashes?
Yes, I’ve known
The zigzag pieces
Trying to arrange themselves
In different combinations
Into a perfect symmetry of
Ethereal grace, translucent beauty
Till the flutter of this moment
No more will people call me mad
As when I went about
Sketching in the thin air
My blunt fingers trying in vain
To give you a form
How I wish
This mortal skin was all eyes!
I’ve not known love
Is this...?
Not to indulge in the polemics
Of whether it’s human or divine
I simply know
It as beyond the skin confines!
Each flutter made the long sown seeds
Crack open, sprout and bear buds
The latent buds bloomed into flowers
Of unsurpassable hues together throwing up
One unique scent that’s you
I bathe in the perfume
In my primordial glory…
05 Apr 2011
08.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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a visible hatch
the caterpillar creates
her cocoon reveals
haiku by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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In Leaf Fall Learn
give leaf to leaven
busy hungry crawl caterpillar;
free to wander dawn
where it chance may
to spin silken
dream transition one glorious day;
to spin woven
dream seen inspiration as caterpillar
crawl in dust leaf learn
until time to metamorphosis turn;
dreams grounded stay
not earthbound stubborn
aspire to destiny blue cloud heaven
leap in faith learn to freedom fly;
patient be stretch birth beat wings dry
upon breath breeze sing embrace sky
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Caterpillar
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A creeping, coloured caterpillar,
I gnaw the fresh green hawthorn spray,
I nibble it leaf by leaf away.
Down beneath grow dandelions,
Daisies, old-man’s-looking-glasses;
Rooks flap croaking across the lane.
I eat and swallow and eat again.
Here come raindrops helter-skelter;
I munch and nibble unregarding:
Hawthorn leaves are juicy and firm.
I’ll mind my business: I’m a good worm.
When I’m old, tired, melancholy,
I’ll build a leaf-green mausoleum
Close by, here on this lovely spray,
And die and dream the ages away.
Some say worms win resurrection,
With white wings beating flitter-flutter,
But wings or a sound sleep, why should I care?
Either way I’ll miss my share.
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A hungry, hairy caterpillar,
I crawl on my high and swinging seat,
And eat, eat, eat—as one ought to eat.
poem by Robert Graves
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Butterfly
A caterpillar had the feeling
That change was coming
That time was stealing.
To embrace the metamorphosis
It wove a cocoon around its chest
And choose our wall to take its rest.
The young are thoughtless, often cruel
And I was no exception.
I would have destroyed it but
for Frankie’s intervention.
Frankie lived in the corner house
He was older and quite wise.
He taught me that this green cocoon
would change into a butterfly.
He bade me watch, he had me wait
to see the wonder taking shape.
We saw the Monarch first take wing
once caterpillar, now a King.
Several summers passed us by.
I still lived but Frankie died-
He was just eighteen, Young and brave
A landmine put him in his grave.
He died just before Saigon’s fall
His name’s inscribed upon the Wall
Corporal Frank Evangelista Junior,
beloved by mother and mourned by sister.
A terrible loss when Frankie died-
He might have been a butterfly.
(The incident with the Butterfly happened in 1960. Lance Corporal Frank Paul Evangelista jr.USMC died during the Vietnam war when a landmine blew up his jeep. I recall he died in March of 1969, but I altered the time lines slightly(using my poetic license) .. Had he emerged from the experience of war, he may have proved to be a great man.)
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Caterpillar
Dangling down its silken thread,
A caterpillar came;
From atop a branch of tree,
After her feeding game.
Little did it think that there,
A leafy twig green stood,
While it began to descend down,
Dancing across the air.
It jumped in fright upwards from where
It attempted to fall;
The leafy branch too followed it,
And formed a bottom wall.
The Caterpillar sensed the leaves,
And found them succulent;
Alighting gently upon it,
It romped home happily!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-5-2008
poem by John Celes
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