Monarch

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You have known of the transition Little One. Hatched under a warming sun and crawling inch by inch through the plants. Feeling so small and vulnerable; little realizing your purpose.

You knew by some inner driving force that the greens and fluids were sustaining. In your constant search there were many occasions when Providence saved you from bird or beetle. Even your colour was a help in unconscious hiding.

And then that inner pull, felt often to your advantage, caused you to do the extraordinary. Caused you to be still and attach yourself to a sturdy stem. Round and round you wove the hammock, encasing yourself for the waiting sleep. Finally in darkness, but strangely not in confusion, you dreamed I’m sure.

And wings developed, and colour, and legs, and feelers. All as if Creator were engaging in some lark of variety, revelling in artistry. You heard no clock tick.

Then there was an inner alarm, followed by the wrestling match for freedom and light. Each push or pull strengthened appendages, increased your confidence for the new and different.

Out now and about, you could not recognize yourself. Gentle breezes dried your members. The urging happened again, coached by the subtle press of wind against sail.

And you flew, beginning the joyful dance of discovery, distance, destiny and Divine pleasure.

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