Stars in Cocoon

I always wanted to be a shining star.
Then I learned to want nothing—
and nothing overruled every other wanting.

But soon I saw:
if I want nothing,
I am already dead—
at least a man without purpose.

So I asked myself:
can I be among the stars
and still desire?
Can I shine,
yet still long?

Then I learned:
stars shine through equilibrium.
If they lose their balance,
they tilt,
they fall.
Good and bad are only the pans of a scale.

Only when they align
upon the equilibrium of the center
do wings unfold—
in the constant poise for balance,
for the Right,
the two turn into one.

The singularity.
The Oneness.
The lift that raises them
to the stars.

In butterflies,
metamorphosis never ends.
In their wings,
stars are cocooned.