And how, if you weren’t there,
Could you profess to understand?
Being familiar with a continent
Doesn’t make you a citizen of the land.
You cannot see your own tomorrow,
Yet lament the doom of another’s
Because you don’t have the faith to see
The caterpillar gets smothered,
Digested, and seemingly dies,
Before being resurrected in beauty-
Nothing gets so terrible
So far beyond its duty
And incapable of function
It cannot be made well again.
Nothing gets so bad
That good cannot break in.
So don’t weep for those whom you are not,
And declare the good has gone and died.
The ferryman doesn’t wait for your alms
To pass from side to side.
Every crippling blow today
Can one day fall in stride.

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