Change
 
I tore out of my egg sac and I ate it
then ate as many leaves as I could chew.
I fattened up and, finally, I made it
to a safe place where magic will undo
my former form and change me to a strange
winged creature I could not have contemplated.
All of my parts will somehow rearrange
themselves; the memories of crawling faded.
 
I am no longer larval. In my vault,
dozing, I revel in a crazy dream—
I leap up with a staggering result:
that I am flying on a solar beam.
I wake, break out, my brilliant wings unfurl.
Flying? Yes, I guess I’ll give it a whirl.

Martin Elster

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Martin Elster  would like to hear them.