This has long been one of my favorite poems. I don't know where I first saw it or who the author is but I wanted to share it with you.
YOU CAN FLY. . . BUT THAT COCOON HAS GOT TO GO!
And I don't think it was talking about butterflies.
But the risk--oh, the risk of leaving the swaddling
warmth of a cocoon. My cocoon. My status quo.
My. . . deadening security.
To leave the known,
no matter how confining it may be--for an unknown,
a totally new lifestyle--
oh, the risk!
Lord, my cocoon chafes, sometimes. But I know its
restrictions. And it's scarey to consider the awful
implications of flight. I'm leery of heights. (Even
But, Lord, I could see so much wider, clearer
And there's an exhilaration about flight that I
have always longed for.
I want to fly. . .
if I could just have the cocoon to come back to.
Probably butterflies don't even want to--
once they've tasted flight.
It's the risk that makes me hesitate.
The knowing I can't come back to the warm, undemanding
Lord. . . about butterflies. . .
the cocoon has only two choices--
What about me?
If I refuse to risk,
do I, too, die inside, still wrapped in the swaddling
Let me know what you think about this poem?