Following the days of fierce change
Emerges from its paper sleeping bag
Unfurls creased-linen wings
slowly smoothing and expanding
But lacking space
To spread to full span
Its freedom cape
Fails to fly
And, tethered to the earth
I wrote this poem after finding a butterfly in this state. The placement of its cocoon didn't allow enough space for its wings to expand and fill. They were left crumpled and useless.
It brought to mind the death of dreams, when we are not allowed to fully spread our wings and 'fly'. Is there anything that is hampering you from fulfilling your potential? Are you really spreading your wings and achieving flight?