The Butterfly
Within the folds of this mortal cocoon,
Grows the delicate majesty of the Monarch,
And though this crude matter encompasses all,
Its fleeting power is but smoke and dark.
5 A lasting peace shall come to me,
When this process is finally done,
And on gossamer wings I'll take to flight,
As I return to my Celestial home.
10 Without the change this life will bring,
One could never attain the heights,
Omnipotent authority is mine to earn,
For the butterfly rises not in the night.
-Brian K. Eddy
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