It takes time, a lot of time,
and a lot of pain
to come out of that cocoon.
But you do come out, eventually,
and you find that it was worth every moment
you spent in agony
when you finally stretch to your fullest beauty
and become everything the Master created you to be.
There are a million out there
who look just like me.
Mammaís not all that special, Sweetheart.
The world would, probably, never even notice me
if He hadnít colored me so bright a shade of orange.
All thatís left of those dark, dreary days in my own cocoon
is the bold black outline around my wings,
only intensifying the orange.
I watch you struggle,
your cocoon becoming uncomfortable,
hardly able to hold you as you grow.
Really, as hard as it is for you to believe,
Mammaís been there,
and I know
it feels like you might smother
if you donít come out soon.
But youíve a ways to go
so, be strong and of good courage.
Already, I see the midnight black
protruding from the edges
of a cocoon about to break open
so that heaven can rejoice.
Already, I see angelsí breath
covering silken, multi-colored wings.
But donít come out before time,
and not ready for the same air Mamma breathes.
Break forth gracefully
in due time
and, when you can,
come rest on my shoulder.
The joy you carry upon your back
will always be a welcome visitor.
And that back ...