Silk Worm

by jesssmithwriting

(Written based off painting “Wabi-sabi” by Lauren Brevner from Vancouver, BC)

There is an understated serenity
that comes with silence
And I would be bold enough to say
The art of silence has been lost

The Peace which accompanies quiet
is a rare commodity
in the fast pace world
we have come to know


When I was born
I thought I would grow to be a butterfly

Then the day came when I realized
wings had not grown upon my back
I was not a caterpillar, fresh from the cocoon
I was not the seedling of a butterfly

I was a silk worm

one might think
the knowledge of my new fate
would break me

I may be crushed having realized
I would never be adorned
in the gown, the wings
She gets to wear

I too,
thought I would be lost without my perceptions

the identity I had come to know
had been be washed away
with the dreams of my wings

mere days after the initial shock
I began to realize
my identity had not been washed away

I was cleansed
of all the illusions
I had crafted for myself

I learned to Love my newfound destiny
My destiny of Peace

Now I would spend my days
serenely weaving exotic silk

I would not fly
but that was okay
because I have seen

There is chaos in flight

There is a debilitating delicacy
that comes with dust covered wings,
wings which cannot function
if merely touched by man

No, maybe I would not get the stage
I had been building myself for
Maybe I would not get the show
my mind had designed for me

I, the silk worm
would labour
And I would be tested

I would do
I will do
what I came to do:

Create Beauty

I myself,
have not much interest in “being” beautiful

In time
With age

All decays

if I create Beauty
wherever I can
whenever I can

This lives on forever

I am not timeless
But my essence is

and She,
My Love,
is beautiful

So, I will leave her
in all the places I go
I will give her
to all who are deserving

Rather than being the beautiful butterfly
I will be the silk worm
Quietly and Peacefully weaving
The most magnificent silk I can create

And I will adorn
All that I can
And All who I love
In the fruits of my labour