On Becoming a Butterfly by Michael Robin

Little did I know,

the end was just the beginning

Like the caterpillar,

I shed my old skin as if I was supposed to die.

Reduced to a puddle of muck,

I fought hard to get out of the cocoon.

Had someone intervened to help me escape,

I would have died.

I learned like the caterpillar,

that my struggle had to be vigorous yet patient.

Transformed into a brightly colored butterfly,

I fly along the robins of spring.

Like the butterfly, I’ve endured pain and loss,

to become a better person.