About a week ago….
I was 30cm in soil
Can’t remember if it was soil or rotten wood
It was moist and hot
All I did was hit the shell from within
I hoped the egg would crack
Couldn’t suffer such punishment any longer
I heard the voices of other larvae from their prison shells
We all wanted the same things
To break out and be free
Free to crawl and one day fly
Suddenly I was free from the prison
My eyes were blinded by the brightness of the light around me
I wasn’t warned about it
My neck was almost blown off, they said it was the evening wind
Then I realized this was only the beginning
I was out of the soil or rotten wood
I crawled freely
Not underground but freely to be trod upon
Oh what dangers in this freedom
Just when I was about giving up
I was told I had less than three weeks to become a butterfly
And then I had new worries
Will I be a beautiful butterfly?
Would humans really love me if I started to fly?
What about the brightness and the wind?
Will I get to find flowers with sweet nectar?
What will I look forward to this time?
For now, I’m a larva
Maybe I’ll someday become a butterfly
I’m a larva
I’ll enjoy this stage of my life