Creeping along, devouring everything in sight,
wrapped up in strings of your own making
wound up in yourself
waiting for wings.
Patience is a virtue.
You break free, stretch,
the new you quivers with discovery.
You fly, fill life with sweetness,
bring joy to those who watch you
waltz with the wind
you fall life-less.
The core of you crumbles,
but the breeze captures the wings left behind
and carries them,
curling and flipping
to the sky.