A butterfly
Emerging
The silken veil of her cocoon
Pieces of it
Are clinging to her wings
Like sleep.
She becomes aware
That’s she’s not what she used to be.
She has wings.
The ground no longer holds self-consciousness for her.
The air
No longer is her restraint.
The sky
She’s no longer shy of it.
Life gave her wings
She’s meant to fly.
And to return.