Breaking from the cacoon,
Warm, safe; a protection, a shield.
Wet wings, unfurling,
tasting the first breath of morning,
seeing the world with new eyes.
An ugly catapillar,
growing, eating, learning,
the Innocence of Childhood.
A wormish thing,
to a Butterfly in all her beauty.
A woman, from a child;
feeling strange and out of place.
Yesterday seems to distant,
Life's first waves,
Looking in the mirror,
I see myself;
I'm the same, yet someone else.
Who have I become?