a looming transformation

as leanne and i walked to church recently, she noticed caterpillar after caterpillar. i wonder if we'll notice all the butterflies when they emerge? for some reason, i was thinking of those little caterpillars this morning. then, i remembered this poem by emily dickinson.

"A fuzzy fellow, without feet,
Yet doth exceeding run!
Of velvet, is his Countenance,
And his Complexion, dun!

Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass!
Sometime, upon a bough,
From which he doth descend in plush
Upon the Passer-by!

All this in summer.
But when the winds alarm the Forest Folk,
He taketh Damask Residence--
And struts in sewing silk!

Then, finer than a Lady,
Emerges in the spring!
A Feather of each shoulder!
You'd scarce recognize him!

By Men, yclept Caterpillar!
By me! But who am I,
To tell the pretty secret
Of the Butterfly!

At last, to be identified!
At last the lamps upon thy side
The rest of Life to see!

Past Midnight! Past the Morning Star!
Past Sunrise!
Ah, What leagues there were
Between our feet, and Day!"

(complete poems of emily dickinson, 82-83)