But A Miracle


But A Miracle

Crawling along the ground,
gathering what I can from my environment,
that which will sustain me during my metamorphosis;
Carrying along with me the dirt and grit that comes from a life well-traveled,
Nearly meeting my maker before my time.
Up the jagged edge I climb,
affixing myself to that which will hold me, wrapped in my chrysalis dangling above the ground.
Darkness envelopes me now.
In this darkness suspended in space and time, there is no motion.
I lie asleep, as my body begins to change shape and form, bursting into something completely foreign.
The I as I have known myself to be,
exist no longer,
I am nothing at all, and all together something brand new.
To crawl on ones belly is one thing,
but to be given the opportunity to fly,
that is but a miracle.

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