I am the butterfly inside the chrysalis.
Waiting.
Dreaming.
Unaware that my body has turned to mush and I am just hanging around.
Vulnerable. Invisible. Transitioning.
A willing warrior whose Master is a Muse,
A Master who teaches with love
Who knows self fulfillment is the art
Of mindful meditation
Requiring both movement and balance
Before I spread my wings and fly
Over the myriad colors and scents and beauty of this world.
Spreading a little pollen as I go
Understanding that even those of us who simply float
In the great silence of our own contemplation
Have value too.
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