There you were lying in bed your century-old body a fetus — back to the beginning. I sat by you not expecting a conversation — but did you know I was there?
Your room so sparse — but above you, stirring in the current, was a mobile of butterflies — red, green, purple.
Then I saw you wrapped in a cocoon, its wispy threads growing around and around you. The butterflies, detached from the mobile, fluttered around you, lighting on you and fluttering all about you.
Then I saw deeper past Eternity's gate and beheld your cocoon in the brilliant, transparent, diverse Garden, butterflies all about. You hatched from your cocoon refreshed, renewed, strong and whole, beautiful and alive.
You spread your wings and fluttered through the Garden, lighting on rose and tulip and lily — Free.
©2009 John A. Mills