-the cells responsible for the transformation from caterpillar to butterfly
Remember: they summon no shiftthrough fear. They are fate-mapping:swirling into stalks and coils, the thin
pennons we become that make usrise, but make us delicate. They knowthe future. So often, we like to think
what makes us human is our foredoom,but what makes the Blue, the Hairstreakis forewinged, something in them pulsing,
knowing flight is coming. The prescienceitself is attacked: the caterpillars’ own beinghates that it knows it will change, won’t
let the secret be. Life can’t all beeating. Sometimes it is more rhythm,sorting the body into another frequency
that can grow to unfurl itself: mutilatedat first, the wings crimped by chrysalis,but waiting in a beam, the limb smooths
to becoming what one can use. I knowthere’s more to the air than I can knowor guess, or possibly even ask. Don’t need
to always know: all that’s ever worth adoringis mystery. What I was is not what I am, butis, and I love them that make what wanting I’ll be.
Photo by Augustine Mullick on Unsplash