The Cocoon

 

Summer's dawn sweeps slowly

Through skies of sleeping eyes.

Its first muted rays

Touch upon a cocoon

Suspended by life's golden thread.

 

A breeze was heard

To whisper, "It's time."

Each ray, like fingers,

Untie the first threads

Of her protective sheathe.

 

Inside she stirs, yielding

To irresistible light,

Writhing, struggling

To break the fine threads

That enclose her.

 

Unraveling, breaking,

The threads fall away

Slowly, tediously,

Exposing the tender form

That struggles toward the light.

 

Shivering yet with newness

She frees fragile wings.

Faintly she opens

As curious sensations

Stimulate new awakening.

 

Singing upon the wind

She calls for another

To soar above the fields,

To dance and frolic

Upon the petals of a flower.

 

Their only cocoon,

Wings to enclose

The other with love,

And nurtured by

The nectar of Truth.

 

 

B. Benjamin                                                                                         

BBP169