When I, a cocoon, began to emerge
Was I retarded by some surge
Of hostile chemical, a teaching,
That fatally misconstrued my aim?
How did I end up this way,
And only now I begin to see I erred
Because of one-sided attitude
Not all the needed nutrients given
Imbalance deadly and pervasive
And now I find myself, ages later,
Unable to fly, still half trapped
In an out of date, restrictive cocoon
I long to FLY
Why, O God, why?
But deep down I know this is my suffering with Him
I would fly rejoicing, heedless in the sun, supreme,
Unknowingly utterly vulnerable, but now vulnerable
On Him I must steadfastly, consciously rely
Knowing that in the time that I die to self I can fly
And when I follow the Living First-cocoonless butterfly
Then I shall be like Him, flying iridescent, carefree,
In the new world of freedom that is yet to be given
When the cocoon of Spirit life within
Bursts out into resurrection body like as to His.
How I long for that day to come!
Come, Lord Jesus, come!
(c) Nathanael Lewis 1997