from the limits of my white cocoon
fine spun dreams, predilections
and myriad desires
I perceive the world
and sadly it ends at the tip of my
nose
O how I long to rip off these
wretched mummy wrappings
and not have to listen to one more
funeral dirge
or see a tear fall from a grief
stricken eye
my anguished soul flails
wings clipped, bound hand and foot
inside a corporeal coffin

while a delicate butterfly prays for the strength
and faith to live if only for a
day in the bright expansive
colors of its True Self