The Constant

Damian Barnica, Editor

The Constant

They begin this way

This is their story

This is their journey

This is an egg, very small and round

This is their starting point

A cycle of the only constant

This is change

Outside the window

A caterpillar, not knowing of the migration

Yet to come

As the leaves bloom in spring

Not knowing their fall in winter

This is now their chrysalis

Not a traumatic, nor painful adjustment

As growth does not have to be

 But rather a liberating and joyful experience

Once they have learned these new ways

They will begin to expand area more than they know

The butterfly floats above your hand

Like a small cloud over a lake

The change anchors peace

The butterfly is no stone

I hold between two hands

This is your hand, this is their world

Which is vast and has more colors

Than we can see

It begins, it has an end

This is what it will

Come back to, this is your hand


Gabriela Tello