Does the caterpillar know

A thought in poetic form

Does the caterpillar know

When they enter the cocoon 

How the hard times ahead

Are their moment to bloom.

Do they dream of the butterfly to be

Imagine what it is like

To soar on painted wings,

Or; is it just a case

Of one day having had enough

Fully engorged on mundanity 

Feeling utterly stuffed

Has to shut out the world

Embrace the darkness

   The pain

        The melt

             Down

Whether they know

Or not

They will get through it.

Once they do

The sky's the limit

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I wrote this for me, as it matches where my mind is currently at.

But now that I’m posting it I would like to dedicate it my first friend on Substack, the incomparable Miss Füsun Aydın

If you are not familiar with her — she is a writer.