the caterpillar to mariposa

and so i came upon this small caterpillar hanging

onto a leaf seemingly drinking the dew from dusk.

this encounter comes while on my daily stroll

and so i stopped to observe its wanderings

without words spoken, knowing that soon it

would perform its metamorphic transcendence,

then surely if it partakes in such it can read my mind

i wonder if it knows that soon it will become this

butterfly with rainbow wings that flies, replacing the

cilia feet of a terrestrial?

In this transformation, will it remember its past task

of walking and climbing always in angst of its

avian prey?

i ask in wondering~~~ when my incarnate shell doth

lay to rest, like the caterpillar to the ‘mariposa’, and my

spirit transcends, will i remember the love, the pain

of the mundane?