Poetry

---

Olive drab rubbery wrinkles
Inching along
Hot, belly scorching, gritty sand
Eating half-dead leftovers
From the dusty ground
Eyes occluded with opaque scales
Seeing unclearly
Squishing through
Oozing black slime
The worm barely exists

Thousands of colors
Of a glistening rainbow
Velvet black, powdery brilliant blue
Frosty white, sunset orange and on
And on
Each uniquely recreated
Free to soar to heights
To dip down
On dew speckled, delicate yellow iris petal
And again
From leaf, to stately tree
To crystal sky dressed in purple sunset
Unbound, reborn
A butterfly

Yes, death to SELF
A barely living worm,
To indescribable beauty
As a born again
Uniquely free butterfly

Will you allow Jesus into your heart?
To liberate the butterfly of your soul
In new birth with Him?

Or do you choose SELFISH SELF
And to remain for eternity
Linked in inseparable league
With THE WORM?

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE