or a glory?
The time of inching along only leads
to a cocoon;
Life inside is like a death;
The time of breaking out with energy
so small;
The time of moving fragile,
awkward wings;
The wobbly lift off into a huge domain;
The amazing discovery that its fragile wings
and the wind of God
Are a perfect match.
Then off it goes, a quiet glory
reflecting His own.
*When I wrote this, I was about to write my daughter’s Easter card.
She has been through months of illness and recovery, so Resurrection
Day has special meaning this year. I was pleased with the simple beauty
of the card, when the Lord asked me: “Do you want a poem to go with it?”
Does a butterfly think it's a worm,