Longing for Home

Does the butterfly
long in his heart
for the cocoon
that held him
tightly bound?

As he flies free
and sits in the sun
on the flower
in my grandmother's garden,

is he overwhelmed
by the greatness of the world
and the vast opportunities
that await him?

Does he wrestle
with his fear
of failure
or the anxiety
of deppression?

Does he resent
growing old
day by day
as he glides
on the dewy youth
of the spring morning?

Does he long
in his heart
for that cocoon
that held him
tightly bound?