#WOWAfrica Chrysalis by IDivine (Ojumu Samuel)

I once knew a monarch, before he became such…just another caterpillar who’d been told he’d be lucky if he even became a moth…his birth was in dirt… where every path forward reverts…constantly reminded his background was the back, ground…not the type you picture yourself in…so  no clicks(cliques)…just alone, by himself he(selfie) had no buttons to push…oh but he had kush…I mean it’s a world where everyone leaves, so he had to be right to believe the leaves were the more stable staple for a caterpillar to feed….but those highs only came with lows with deeper steeps… that and downing every bottle ,he still never found a genie and the bottom, to grant his single wish…to be a butterfly… Relegation to elevation, to experience such a rise…the one desire he secretly wanted …but being at the ‘bottom of the food chain’ even when he prayed(preyed) , by his nature he’d still be haunted(hunted) …and since every larvae he knew…hard as they flew…only turned a bug or fly…maybe becoming a moth was worth a try….they are drawn to flames & might go out in a blaze of glory…that can’t be such a bad way to end a story?
So he crawled treating life like a bad investment, had low expectations…but one day a pamphlet flew by his vision, bringing with it great a revelation….”I will study and wait and the opportunity will come” he saw those words of Abraham Lincoln in bold print…and since all he sought was opportunity he crawled faster, more like slow sprint… To a place of books and begun to discover a curious fact about paper… made from the same source as leaves with the spice of ink they’ve become much greater….ate through most pages he could find… each bringing a new awareness to mind…immersed in the thoughts of others he was taught what he thought …Was out of order…like an abandoned elevator … but taking long stares(stairs) at the those pages, he discovered the path to self education…He was not alone, just a prisoner to his own thoughts, in a cocoon that he had on his own forged…he was by himself ‘beaten’ but the ‘strokes’ on paper heralded the ‘period’ that ended his ‘sentence’… fed on words beyond the caterpillar’s limit… his spirit lifted…his body along with it…with the knowledge that anything is possible as long as he conceived it…he grew…shedding his skin…he morphed into a beautiful butterfly and flew…with the simple fact he now knew… To be a monarch, to be a king…you must let WORDS GIVE YOU WINGS.

About The Author
-

Leave a Reply