Does a cat become a caterpillar
Or a bird become a fly?
Does a flower become a seed,
Or does it simply fade and die?

Does a pond become a stream,
Or a blade turn into grass?
Does a clock dictate the time,
Or does the time simply pass?

Suppose a bike became a car,
Or a plane became a ship;
Perhaps a plant is a machine
That was once a little pip.

And what if all we think we see
Just isn’t there at all,
Wouldn’t we just finish up
Feeling insecure and small?

But out there in the universe
Our creator rules on high;
For He produced the chrysalis
Which becomes the butterfly.

He transforms the broken heart
And renews the fallen mind.
And He changes from within
That poor creature who was blind.

He died upon a cruel cross
And became our living Saviour,
So we can put our trust in Him
To change our wrong behaviour.

When we cry out in our despair
He’ll not desert us in the test.
He changes us beyond compare,
Not pleased with second best.

So now in this paradox of words
We see a hidden, living world
In which the darkness is Pure Light
And in God’s arms we’re safely held.

© AnnaKirsten 2001