Something else about the chrysalis
(another swallowtail flew free this morning):
it happens, hidden.
Isolated,
enrobed in green,
out of sight,
the changes happen.
In darkness,
may be.
Outside our observation.
Beyond prediction,
were I the caterpillar.
Plump green fat-footed body
exchanged
for delicate black-winged velvet beauty,
curling, unfurling proboscis,
tentative touching antennae.
Plodding gravity-bound being
Transformed for flight.
Me?
Improbable.
But, true!
You?
And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. II Corinthians 3:18
[more on caterpillars and metamorphosis: here, here, here, here, and here.]
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