She looks like summer and walks like rain...

She reminds me that there is time to change. Oh and there is time; there is time to grow.. Her life seems to be going through some type of metamorphosis that is just about to peak. A butterfly, a  gentle comparison she might never acknowledge.A butterfly breaking out of the cocoon she worked so hard to build herself. I wonder if butterflies really get this scared about finally breaking free. No one holds a mirror for a butterfly so they can look at what beautiful creatures they have finally become. I wonder if real butterflies get scared when the cocoon falls out from under them and the have to fly.  I wonder if they ever see the reflection of their wings in a puddle of mud and want to kiss all the beautiful colors. I wonder if growing those beautiful tools of flight is a painful process. I wonder if real butterflies wonder why they were made to fly, or if they simply do without question. I'd be her puddle of mud. I'd kiss all her colors and make her see that flight is enough. I'd be the rays of sunlight that break through the window of the second grade classroom to illuminate the escape of  the butterfly from it's cocoon. I'll be as awed as the children, I'll discover a new way of learning through her. I would never clip her wings, or keep her for myself. I love the way she freeing herself, but I cant help but want to save the cocoon and remind her that this is why I fell in love with a caterpillar. Beauty is change.