Phylum Mollusca witnesses Metamorphosis

The little egg found shelter under dull leaves.
Where eyes could not roam,
where whispers would not pry at his frail skin like knives.
His innocence still remained,
though his growth began to be noticed.

There was a quiet brown slug,
who had seen him within his oval home.
They were the best of friends.
She valued the days when he could not see around him.
An oblivious egg overseen by a hopeful friend.
He did not notice her clouded eyes, or
desperate defense.
The round egg grew and grew,
with no knowledge of his vast maturity.

Rain fell on the leaves one day.
He stirred within the egg when
he felt a drop of water on his fresh skin.
It was his first step.
He would greatly miss the days of peace
but came out that day as larva,
as caterpillar.

Soon after final comfort in his skin,
it was time to embark into a new darkness.
Into pupa, a longer, more arduous change.

The other bugs would gather round
and watch him evolve.
Every fidget within his small home,
caused a gasp.
Every twitch from under his brown sheath,
caused the little bugs to squirm.

He was a marvel.
Everyone wished to see his strange, yet enticing development.
He had amazed the little slug for as long as she could remember.
She was ashamed she had kept him unaware,
to herself.
He had always been beautiful to her.

The day was early when black became light.
His outer layer began to rip and he used all of his strength
to wriggle free.
The slug had spent the night by the leaves,
sensing that he was close to emerging.
She saw him shed his chrysalis.
The boy butterfly did not see her weeping, far
more mesmerized by his newfound extremity.

He felt at ease around the crowd of eager eyes.
No longer awkward and large,
he didn't feel the need to cover his wings.
Once kept away,
the butterfly felt discovered.

The slug wept for days.
Her trail grew longer than usual.
She wandered through the brush,
alone.
She wept for her friend.
But most of all,
she wept for what was lost
beneath those dull leaves.