Caterpillar

One Autumn Saturday a bright green caterpillar looked at me from its magenta petal. It lived in a dahlia. Harvested by a gardener from the Golden Gate Park's dahlia bed, someone left it next to my Tibetan singing bowl at the tunnel's mouth.

I placed the dahlia is in a bud vase on my kitchen table. I observed the caterpillar thoughtfully. This is my first eye to eye introduction.

As I gaze at this tiny sentient worm-with-legs, I ask many questions. Will it draw silken thread from its body to surround itself in sleep? Does it dream? Will it awaken to flight? Imagine its destiny?

I listen quietly for answers.