The Chrysalis Path

When memory melts like wing-dust in the rain,

And words grow distant as a summer's dream,

Remember: in the chrysalis of change

Things aren't always quite the way they seem.

For as the caterpillar yields its form

To sacred soup of transformation's art,

So too might minds, when changing from their norm,

Be journeying closer to their truest heart.

Beyond the realm of numbers, names and days,

Past logic's kingdom and the rule of speech,

A deeper wisdom threads its gentle ways

Through realms that only spirit's touch can reach.

Like golden threads in dissolution's dance,

Some truths grow stronger as the rest grow thin—

What seems like loss might be a slow advance

Toward the eternal light that burns within.

So guard this shell of change with gentle care,

This sacred space where soul meets mystery;

For in this moments that seem hard to bear,

A butterfly of spirit might break free.