A Butterfly Inside

I feel a butterfly inside; its wings are cramped within my breast. The weight of flesh, o dull cocoon, prohibits my free flight. At best I only soar inside; my wings-- gossamer, light, remain untried. I wait...I wait...until the day the barred' cage is flung aside and airy wings lift toward the skies. I have felt this graceful creature flutter faintly deep inside; then, at times, so ardently, I think no way will it abide! It will be loosed! Its wish to fly will push the bars of flesh aside. Determined is this butterfly to show its colors multiplied and wing its way through azure skies. The time is drawing near, I'm sure; the throbbing swells within my heart. The cumbrous cocoon, filled with life, is bursting now, falling apart. The butterfly is breaking free; no more its wings will tightly furl, but lightly spread upon the breeze their filmy webs, gilded and pearled... and, then, my soul will leave this world. Faye Lanham Gibson Copyright, 1987