What was it like when you became a butterfly?
When your organs melted and liquified, was it painful?
Did you yearn and grieve for your former self during your transition to a creature of flight?
Did you mourn the disappearance of your soft, green undulating body?
Did you linger as long as you could as a creature of this plane,
Clinging to the blind, earthbound habits of the past?
Was it an enormous leap of faith to do the long, tedious work of constructing rigid struts, hardy muscles and diaphanous wings?
Or,
Were the long weeks encapsulated in your pupa prison as effortless as that first morning flight into the light?
David Hanig 