Said the baby caterpillar

To his mother one day,

” Why do I crawl in the dirt,

And slide through plant decay,

To find something good to eat.

Why am I made this way?”

” It’s degrading to be

On the ground in these woods

Where I am unable to see

From a lofty, more beautiful place,

The wonderful things around me.”

 

Mother shook her head with grace,

And said in a gentle voice,

” It’s not our place to question God,

For we all don’t have a choice.

He has his reasons for what he does.

For now, we crawl in the sod.”

 

He went on his way, grumbling to all

Who were willing to listen to him,

” I’m creeping through bird fuzz.

Why can’t I fly like them?”

He spent his days crawling in the grass,

Feeling such great despair.

He could see the lovely tree leaves high,

He wanted to be up there.

He thought God didn’t like him much,

And he let out a terrible sigh.

He ate all that he could touch,

And he grew as the days went by.

 

His mother stopped one day and said,

“It’s time to climb the  tree.”

He looked up into the bluest sky,

Felt fear and sat on his rump.

“I’m not ready,” he said with a cry.

He hid behind an old stump.

She dragged him out,

And he turned to run.

He felt such terrible doubt.

 

Yet he began to climb.

The more he climbed,

The braver he got,

He felt he was sublime.

He ate so many leaves,

He slept for a time.

He woke up in a cocoon,

And he couldn’t believe,

He would be flying soon.

 

He wiggled until he fell,

Without making a sound.  

He sat on a rock and opened

The wings upon his back.

He kept on flapping them

Until he got the knack.

Soon he was flying

Way above the ground.

He laughed with elation,

And he thanked God above,

For giving him his wings,

And showering him with love.

Yu/stan/kema.