It was a grub: a monochrome shell of existence within which pulchritude bloomed secretly, set to burst free when the crescent acquired its complete shape.
A nature’s anomaly, the grub was. So ugly, and yet fostered beauty in its womb. So seemingly unimportant, and yet reared something that added to the loveliness of the world.
How unfortunate that it couldn’t survive more than a fortnight … and the fact that the moment when it would embrace death, at that very same moment, its embrasure to death would become the cause of sprouting of another life.
Then the butterfly would arise from the remains of its cocoon, the drab casing that had enclosed her while she nurtured her existence.
Such striking disparity would radiate between the two! The butterfly painted with the most scintillating colors and the cocoon an etiolated being, devoid of any color. The butterfly a symbol of exquisiteness, while the cocoon a symbol of drabness.
However, they would both hold something in common: this duo of opposites, the cocoon and the butterfly.
They both would be ephemeral, and therein this ephemerality would lie the true beauty, however the short-lived it be …
Because, beauty, when short-lived, is appreciated the most.