The butterfly & the cocoon

A small crack appeared on a cocoon. A man sat for hours and watched carefully the struggle of the butterfly to get out of that small crack of cocoon.

Then the butterfly stopped striving. It seemed that she was exhausted and couldn’t go on trying. The man decided to help the poor creature. He widened the crack by scissors. The butterfly came out of cocoon easily, but her body was tiny and her wings were wrinkled.

The ma continued watching the butterfly. He expected to see her wings become expanded to protect her body. But it didn’t happen! As a matter of fact, the butterfly had to crawl on the ground for the rest of her life, for she could never fly.

The kind man didn’t realize that God had arranged the limitation of cocoon and also the struggle for butterfly to get out of it, so that a certain fluid could be discharged from her body to enable her to fly afterward.

Sometimes struggling is the only thing we need to do. If God had provided us with an easy to live without any difficulties then we become paralyzed, couldn’t become strong and could not fly.

Don’t worry, fight with difficulties and be sure that you can prevail over them.

Gonna break these chains around me
Gonna learn to fly again
May be hard, may be hard
But i'll do it
When i'm back on my feet again
Soon these tears will all be dryin'
Soon these eyes will see the sun
Might take time, might take time
But i'll see it
When i'm back on my feet again
When i'm back on my feet again
I'll walk proud down this street again
And they'll all look at me again
And they'll see that i'm strong
Gonna hear the children laughing
Gonna hear the voices sing
Won't be long, won't be long
Till i hear them
And i'm not gonna crawl again
I will learn to stand tall again
No i'm not gonna fall again
Cos i'll learn to be strong
Soon these tears will all be dryin'
Soon these eyes will see the sun
Won't be long, won't be long
Till i see it
When i'm back on my feet again
I'll be back on my feet again
When i'm back on my feet again

The Foot Steps Of Water
Sohrab Sepehri
Life's a pleasant tradition
.Life's wing is as vast as death.
Life's a jump the size of love.
Life's not something,we put on the mantel of habitand forget.
It does not matter where I am.
The sky is always mine.Windows, ideas, air, love,earth, all mine.Why does it matter if sometimes,the mushrooms of nostalgia grow?
Let's take off our clothes.Water is just a foot away.
Let's have a basket andfill it up with all the greensand all the reds.
We are not to comprehend;the secret of roses, but maybeswimming in the incantation of roses.Or may be looking forthe song of truthbetween the morning glory,and the century.