A Metaphoric Metamorphosis

Metaphorically speaking, it is time to stop and stretch my wings. To pause and release the tension and rid myself of accumulated dust. The fragments of debris that clog my spirit and tempt me to venture places I have no place being. Time to be reborn in the Secret Place.

I am no longer a caterpillar on the ground, stuffing myself with emotional junk food. I find myself stopping to take a breath within the stillness of my skin. No longer content with the underground dirt of life but seeking the beauty I know is on my horizon. A horizon spiced with the ebb and flow of grace and mercy. A path that has peeks and valleys, balanced with faith inside the scale of my heart.

I am being enclosed in new boundaries, new walls, new skills, new hopes which hold me gently. Cocooning me. Transforming me within layers of budding wisdom. The walls of my spirit learning where to be transparent, where to be firm and immovable, how to become unshakable. I can let love permeate by the power of osmosis or I can learn how to open a window and let the light in- without exposing all of me prematurely.

I am on a new flight path. A migrating journey to the Father's mercy seat. Partaking of the spiritual nectar, freedom brings, yet living within the walls of the world. In a sense being scoured clean. Each bristle engraving me and polishing me, expelling stagnant residue and infusing me with newness.

Pealed like an onion from the inside out. The fresh spritz, within each experience, rubbing off on the hands who peal me. Emmiting lively zest. Leaving an impression, leaving my mark. The reason I was created. It is here, within each layer of refining, treasures are born.