The Imaginative Little Caterpillar could transform into things! With the power of his mind he could draw forth his convoluted dreams. He’d always wanted to be a pink park ranger, or a charismatic carpenter, or an amazingly awesome astronaut who could explore here and there, or a ferocious fire-breathing fireman, these he could all transform into without a worry, concern or care.
As he gazed into the mirror after his transformation into a kazoo playing pet kangaroo, he swung his hips this way and that, thinking to himself, “Well! How did I do!” But these transformations only lasted for the day, the moment he placed his head upon his partially ripped cocoon, he lost the idea of how to transform into this or that being or person that night, he wished for an idea, another convoluted dream to come to him soon.
Why were his dreams deemed convoluted when they were simply dreams to alter, to change, the imaginative little caterpillar into another’s different life stage? They were deemed as such because he knew not how the transformations occurred, but to him they were much, much, much more special than simply lying and crawling in the dirt. He did not wish to live that life, to crawl and scrabble in the dirt and sand, he was far too intelligent to allow the dirt to command. It stuck upon him, made him yucky and gross, his transformation dreams were what excited him the most.
Then one morning he felt a great urge to wrap himself, rather than becoming someone else. He attached himself to a twig then slowly, slowly he wrapped himself with silken threads that covered his body so large. And there he hung for eighteen days precisely, being patient, strong minded, and calming, waiting and wondering what on earth would happen when he was able to expel himself from this kind of a body nest, a tight wrapping.
Then the moment arrived, he felt it right to of this world be reborn, to come again alive, and as he separated from the cocoon, he felt extra long legs stretch, and observing to his right and his left, an enormously beautiful wingspan in his sight! Oh, how his heart filled to the brim, at looking at what would now carry him, flying him around the world, above the earth, such a pleasant means of transportation, no longer rolling in the dirt.
No more did this Newborn Butterfly need to transform into other people or forms, when what had been awaiting within him, the power inside, to transform him into the unique form he needed was one of special great worth. He was now pleased, he was delighted, he was so happy deep inside, that for the next three days he flew about the place with no method to his madness, no place to sit and decide. What move to make, where to further go, and for the last day of his exploration, he laid down and from him, something small, a short burst, decided to go. His last breath of life, after his excited exploring last few days, the life of a butterfly was short, but wasn’t it so beautiful to have experienced those days anyway.
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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