The changes in my life
Are causing me much pain;
I mourn for what is lost,
What cannot come again.
The present days are dark,
The storm clouds thunder near;
I doubt I’ll ever find
A place of refuge here.
And then I lift my eyes
And see against the sky
In graceful gossamer,
A golden butterfly.
I hear my Savior’s voice,
“My child, wait patiently,
For when these days are past,
That’s what you’re going to be.
“A caterpillar small
Must crawl upon the ground,
And to the things of earth
Be limited and bound.
But through a time of change,
A hard as that may be,
The creature is transformed
And given liberty.
No longer tied to earth,
Nor prisoned in cocoon,
But soaring to the sky
On wings as bright as noon.
So trust Me, Precious One,
And I will bring you through;
For naught on earth can stay
The plans I have for you.”
The sky may still be dark
With thunderclouds and rain,
My life still filled with care,
My body racked with pain.
But now whene’er my heart
May fear and question, “Why?”
My soul in faith can sing:
“To be a butterfly!”
Note: I wrote this poem years ago in the midst of my own health troubles. You may remember it from a mailing I sent a while back.