The Chrysalis

I've been layering this cocoon, this chrysalis in which I've hidden, for years. Each day carefully adding another barrier to the outside world in the attempt to block the fear of hurt and rejection. It has afforded me much needed solace in a time of trauma and turmoil, but its end is near, it's usefulness has worn thin. I've no idea of the insect that will finally emerge.

But the tears that are moistening the chrysalis are becoming increasingly prevalent, so I know the time is near for the carefully formed layers to burst open and for for a new creature to emerge.

It frightens me, I've isolated myself for so long, formed too many layers, that I fear I have not the strength to complete my mission, or even the desire to try. Will my life end in the cocoon, or will I gather the strength to fight for my freedom?

I huddle in fear of what that creature shall be released to the world, I don't yet know. Will it be a beautifully colored, delicate, but strong butterfly that will gain strength and fly with the wind, leaving beauty and grace in its path? Will it be an object to bring smiles and admiration? Or will it be nothing more than merely a moth with its life's purpose to circle an illuminated inanimate object it perceives as life giving?

Will I fly free for others to see the strength, beauty and change? Or will I merely continue in unending circles until the the inevitable end?

I'm not really sure, at this point if that distinction is mine to make, or if the transformation has been predestined.

My hope is that the former will prevail, will bring beauty, light and understanding to an uneducated world. My fear is it will be the latter, to circle endlessly, and ultimately die alone.

Thoughtfully,

Diva