The Caterpillar Sings

There are moments of beauty 

But they are fleeting 

And they just leave me hungry for more

I feel like I’m dying

I wonder, “Does a caterpillar hurt inside its chrysalis? Does it hurt to become a butterfly?” 

Yes, it hurts

I wonder, “Does the caterpillar fear inside its chrysalis? Does it fear becoming something else entirely different and unknown to what it was before?”

Yes, it fears

I wonder, “Does the caterpillar dread inside its chrysalis? Does it dread the jeers of those who will tell it, ‘You are supposed to be a caterpillar, not a butterfly’ “

Those who will say, “The chrysalis is your home, not the wind”

Yes, it dreads

Yet I wonder, “Does the caterpillar praise inside its chrysalis? Does it rejoice that it is fearfully and wonderfully made?”

Made to ride the wind and drink from beauty

Not made to stay in the hurt, dread, and fear of darkness 

Yes, it praises

But the wind does not come before the darkness

And beauty can only be comprehended 

By comparison to that which is not

So I wonder, “Does the caterpillar sing inside its chrysalis? Does it have a butterfly song?”

Does it sing, “The sun must set and the dark night come, before we rise on the wings of the dawn!”

Yes, the caterpillar sings

(Ps 139:7-10) Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle by the farthest sea, even there Your hand will guide me; Your right hand will hold me fast.

(Acts 14:21,22) They preached the gospel to that city and made many disciples. Then they returned to Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples and encouraging them to continue in the faith. “We must endure many hardships to enter the kingdom of God,” they said.

(Ps 84:2-4) My soul longs, even faints, for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she places her young near Your altars, O LORD of Hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.