We cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are, We ourselves are the roadblocks to our transformation
Max depree
A little caterpillar and his siblings
Striped black and yellow and white
Munched happily on the leaves of the milkweed plant upon which they were born
The more they munched
The bigger they grew
Time passed slowly and then in the blink of an eye
One sister moved away
Followed by a brother
Followed by another and another
The little caterpillar searched for his first sister
And found her resting place underneath a twig
He found her remains affixed in place
It smelled like her and was shaped like her but was unfamiliar in its hardness
Fear filled him like a water balloon at a spigot
“How horrible a fate! If this is what has befallen the others, then I shall never leave!” the tiny caterpillar exclaimed
He went back to his leaf alone
Stifling the urge to leave, the instinct to roam
He grew sickly and lonely upon that plant
Missing his family and companionship
A gust of wind blew a familiar scent across his aging antennae
“Why in the Pollen are you still here?” called a winged creature
Magnificent orange with veins of black
White spots freckling its borders
Unrecognizable in looks but familiar in smell and voice
“Brother, what have you done?”
“Nothing!” he screeched. “I thought you all left to die!”
“No, little one,” she cooed, “We left so we could fly.”