I Am, I Was

I am a soft butterfly who flies on delicate pedal wings.
I was but a worm turned pupa thus now,
Yet only temporal a beautiful small creature that flitters and flutters in the dawning spring.

I am a fast flowing brook who speaks over and over on sleeping stones.
I was before this a drop of rain cast from the sky back to an earthly home.

I am the substance of my Creator thus now made whole.
I was but a dream wrought of dust,
Yet became body and soul.

I am the mighty oak that has stood near a 100 years.
One that has suffered storms; pestilence, doubt and fear.
Yet I was but an acorn lain in perfect timing alongside my parent tree.

I am who I am,
Yet only set forth by who I once was.
Come now, a new day, I will again be me.
Yet it is only by the past that who I once was shall I be able to say “I Am.”

For it is then I will remember at one time I was…just me.

J. Allen Wilson © 7/9/2014