There comes a time, not marked by clocks,
When the walls grow tight,
And the old ways no longer fit.
It is not an ending,
Though it may feel like one—
The stillness before wings.
You were never only what you were,
But what you are willing to become.
Transformation is not a loss,
But a rising.
The caterpillar does not die
Because it chooses the sky.
It surrenders in faith—
That something brighter lives within.
So now,
Let the past fall like a husk.
Step into the hush of your own unfolding.
Let the silence work its magic,
And trust—
You are not leaving yourself behind.
You are meeting the self
You are becoming – something beautiful and new.
By Dr Petra Weldes (c) May 2025