By Leah Blackwell
A caterpillar proposed to a butterfly:
“You are my future
and I am your past.
You can fly away
but I still crawl.
You once crawled
and someday I’ll fly.
Perhaps you can teach me your wisdom
as I will remind you of where you came from.”
The butterfly turned the caterpillar down:
“You’re young, green one.
Too young to understand.
I would love to disclose my wisdom to you,
but the knowledge in my possession
is poison when cocooned in words.
They would snare your mind with confusion.
And you, little one, have nothing to give me.”
Then the butterfly took to the sky, wings adrift dazzling.
The branch buckled from the lost weight and the caterpillar fell.