The Butterfly

AWAKE

I have never met my mother but I know that she is beautiful. She comes to me in dreams, forming out of the blackness. She is a familiar shape, one of destiny. But it is one of dissipating smoke because when I reach out she vanishes, scared of my touch. I dream of colors so vibrant they are alive, undulating in the sky of my deepest soul. I feel a certain longing. It lingers, but disappears with the rising of the sun and I and my brothers and sisters bask in the warmth of it. 

My thoughts turn to what binds me. My mouth feels strong enough now, I nudge my binding several times with my nose. It is enough to dent it. 

There is hunger. 

I reach out and bite. 

 A rush of coolness followed by unfamiliar smells and I bite further still. Once my head is through I pause to rest and my eyes adjust to the wonders of my world. Green leaves that slope in all directions, tall brown cylindrical shaped behemoths rooted from the ground and pointing upwards, deep blue skies that just continue on, and pure white clouds. I know these colors. I have seen them. I have dreamed them. 

I stretch and my body propels forward. No longer bound I must learn the scope of my freedom. Will it be the brown mountains? The blue sky perhaps?

There will be time for that later. There is business to finish. I lay eyes on my old prison and devour it, my past gives power to my future. 

The sun moves across my back and still I eat. I have moved onto the green slopes and what a bountiful feast it is! In abundance and delicious I soon find my skin pulled taut, groaning against itself. With ease as if I have been doing it all my life I merely leave my skin behind and continue my feast. 

My eating has brought me to a place unknown. Suddenly, I realize I have made it to the brown behemoth that seemed so far away, so long ago. 

A shadow passes overhead. My body tenses and I know danger. It echoes across my mind, a whisper from my ancestors, telling me death approaches on the wind. How foolish I have been. Eating without a thought, driven purely by hunger. I have left myself exposed. 

I hear a sound. It is sharp. It is a blade cutting through the blue sky, direct and sure. The shadow moves closer all the while with speed. 

More whispers now and I know the brown behemoth will be my salvation. I hurry to it and my ancestors tell me to push myself against it with all my might. I lean into it with the intention of pushing it down. I know it will never come down through my strength but I push further still.

Behold! When I look upon myself I have become the behemoth. Brown and beautiful, I am one with its sturdiness. I cannot be moved. 

The shadow is no longer a shadow. It real and it is death, beautiful red death. It opens its mouth and lets out a shriek of frustration. Its mean black eyes spin. The sound is enough to shake the green slopes but never the brown behemoth. It leaves. It will become a shadow for someone else, someone perhaps not as lucky. 

SLEEP

Darkness. 

I am back where I began. Only this time it is different. Hunger compelled me to eat everything in sight before, but the bindings around me now are not from compulsion. I felt…instructed. The trappings of silk woven together can hold up the world. I sleep hanging off the side of my salvation.

Motionless. 

My dreams are disjointed images of colors and shapes and angles that I’ve seen and have yet to see. I dream of wind and how it would be to move about in it, to gently sway in its current. No longer frightened of it but looking forward to my friend that will carry me onward to sweet nectar in every region. But, I must wait. I am vulnerable and must dream a little longer. One must pass through their weakness to realize who they are. 

EMERGENCE

GO! NOW! 

A jolt of electricity strikes from within and I move. How long have I slept? What of the world I am waking to? When I lift my head it is heavier and stronger, with ease I break through. The wind welcomes me, a rush of coolness. Unfamiliar and familiar smells clash and I can smell deeper and much farther. 

I take stock of myself and realize I have awoken this time a completely different being. My anatomy carries hints of my past but what has been added ensure I am something else entirely. I am now what I dreamed. I am vibrant and I am alive. 

I hang there. I experience myself. I gather my strength and feel blood flow into the new parts. My wings are a beautiful rainbow the wind caresses them and nearly lifts me into the air. I see green slopes of old and know that they are the leaves that fed me in a past life. I see many brown cylindrical shaped behemoths pointing towards the sky. They were once my salvation. I extend my wings in gratitude, they are what helped me to become.

I have never met my mother but I knew that she was beautiful. That familiar shape that felt like destiny. I feel her now in every movement, every flap of my wings. I move through the air with the wind as a guide. I cast my own shadow now but it is to inspire hope not fear. I will become the dream of future generations, the whisper that echoes to them, the vibrant shape nestled in their memory. I will become the instinct that instructs them to become what they must. In order to live you must transform.

Now, to the sky.