Butterfly or Moth

Rarely does Nature give so many choices as it gives us humans. What will we choose?

Photo by Suzanne D. Williams on Unsplash

Curtains ripped apart,
A harsh and unforgiving light
Is cast, and we —
Roused from somnolent insouciance —

Do we tuck and roll
Our sleepy, caterpillar selves,
To burrow deep,
And deeper yet, seek sleep?

Or, casting cocoons aside,
Stretch fragile, nascent wings —
Becoming things — emerge —
To face the awful freedom

Of a choice: To live, to fly,
To wonder in the sunlit why —
Or beat ourselves (and others)

Against the darkening glass,
Those things that might have been, become
Pale shadows darting, to and fro,
Till sucked into the guttering flame.

Photo by Vladimir Fedotov on Unsplash

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