Does the caterpillar dream?
Does the butterfly remember?
Does the caterpillar understand why
he feels compelled to weave? Does he
know he's about to bloom, or
does he think he's building a tomb?
Does nature's silhouette
shining through the cocoon's net
appear as beautiful vignette
like a sketching of outlines
for the metamorphosis of design
of the beauty to be seen
on the budding of the wings?
Does the butterfly feel brand new, or
is she prone to deja vu?
And when their paths intersect
in a wild flower field
will they pause long to suspect
a great mystery revealed?