I am a grub, Yes, A grub. Creeping along, I consume, All that I can To change. I know, A caterpillar Is more appealing, But most Become moths, Desperately seeking The light in the darkness. And metamorphosis, Is a messy process No matter what. Inside you ooze, As you destroy What you were. As a grub I will not take flight In a dazzle Of butterfly color. No, I will be firmly on earth - Grounded. And like the dung beetle I will take the crap Of others, And create something. And my carapace Will be strong And iridescent In the light of the day.
There is always hope. Do not let the weight of all that has and can go wrong. Instead reach for what you can do. Yes, a single match can set a forest fire, but what that teaches us is that a small spark can be mighty. And if you can't do anything today, remind yourself that there is tomorrow and the day after and the day after. You will have your chance to to act as that small flame of hope for our great mother, the Earth.