Toward Perfection


I would run,
like gazelles,
ecstatic with movement,
wind at my heels.
Or fly
like the enchanted butterflies,
soaring, stoutly climbing to the clouds
and beyond,
until I grew lost in the stars and forever.
However,
momentarily grounded,
I crawl slowly but steadfastly,
fanning my wet wings,
glad for an eternity
to fulfill my ambitious desires
and sometimes
a little frightened of letting go of
the last strands
of my silken cocoon.