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'I longed for thee when first I crawled to consciousness.

My dreams were all of thee when in the chrysalis I lay.

Oft myriads of my kind beat out their lives.

Against some feeble spark once caught from thee.

And on hour more, and my poor life is gone;

Yet my last effort, as my first desire, shall be

But to approach thy glory; then, having gained

On raptured glance, I'll die content,

For I, the source of beauty, warmth, and life

Have in its perfect splendor once beheld!

 

' The song of the moth ‘Symbols of transformation’ - G.G. Jung