I laid an egg,
A tiny seed of possibility,
In my centre.
There it grew bloated
With the thick rich blood
Of experience.
Nourished by a mulch
Of knowledge.
The egg hatched, crawled,
Sieved through the multitude.
The caterpillar consumed all
Then wove a silver cocoon
In which to dwell, mull over,
Incubate and transform.
Crack of light split surface;
The beautiful butterfly of an
Idea emerges.
Spread her splendid wings
In flight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the way this poem is written, its not just about the butterfly - the depth is inescapable... Beautiful butterfly