A Caterpillar Poem by Ivy Christou
A Caterpillar
Today a Caterpillar was dancing on my plant’s leaf,
Green with white strips,
Its panoply shining in the sun,
I guess you would not call it pretty.
When I was child I was afraid of them,
I could not imagine how the majestic butterfly could emerge
from a plain larva that impresses no one.
As I grew older I’ve started to understand
our world a bit more and became a dreamer..
And it was at this point of my life
That I’ve realised that
all I’ve ever been was a caterpillar,
Waiting for the glorious moment to transform
To something beautiful
loved by everyone.
But the more I think about it the more
I prefer the humble larva.
Because she has potential,
Ambitious dreams
And a wonderful future.
She has the will to live!
While the admired butterfly has nothing to live for,
She has seen and done it all.
Now she can only wait for Death..
I transfer the caterpillar on my palm,
I observe it explore the new environment with excitement,
Again the will to live dominates,
She will not give up until she conquers
My palm,
The Garden,
The Universe.
I am myself a caterpillar.
I like that you've done something NEW (to me) with the caterpillar/butterfly image pair. Most of your poem read itself to me, which is high praise! I feel so happy to be clicking people's new poems on this site, and finding poetry, not doggerel!
i liked the way you conacted realty with fantasy, it is a new idea talking about caterpillar transference as a beautifull imagination well done i hope for success and happness thanx
Well, how about that for a fresh new way of looking at life and the instincts within us (ambition, desire, hope) to give it meaning! Fantastic poem which has made me look at poems in a whole new light! Warm regards, Gina.
I think that you are a beautiful poetess (and a lady bug from another poem ( :) . Nice descriptions, direct expressing of your thoughts in a way concise and understandable.
A brilliant image captured effectively in verse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 8:09:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
But only the imago can reproduce because the pupa becomes a soup