We are as the Caterpillar Un-knowing of Our Future Glories.

We are as the caterpillar un-knowing of our future glories.
We hear the whispering of ancient teachings upon the
Wind of Fates fury blowing. Bend don’t stand against the storm
For it is always beyond your control. Know you don’t have to hide
But know well that yours are not the tides to push back in your stride.
If he were to be told what awaited him beyond the void of his asylum
Would he fear the wings with which he shall be blessed?
Would he fear the symmetry of perfection in which he shall be dressed?
Would he doubt his ability to fly? Would he question why it is he and only
He who is blessed with the transformation immaculate?
Are we not each perfection in transition?

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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