by Louis B. Shalako
c2010
All Rights Reserved
One tiny little egg is deposited
Along with a thousand fellows
And it is hidden,
Amongst russet, green, yellow
Many a day must pass
Before the first one cracks
But soon they all must go
Feed they then on grasses
Tender shoots of plants
Some of the young get eaten
And there are those
Before the second dawn are froze
It is a deadly dance
One by one they leave then
Each must follow it’s own uncertain path
One weaves a silken cocoon
And enters chrysalis
He won’t come out too soon—
Until he’s done with this
And so the weeks they pass
The appointed time now comes
The transformation’s done
He crawls out into the light
Out into the warm summer sun
He dries his new-grown wings
And he sees
With golden antennae unfurled
Tasting the currents of the breeze
Becomes aware of the larger world
Now he gives a special call
His mate he hopes to bring
Three days he has, no less and no more
He arises on the wind
Time is short.
It is time to soar.