Teresa of Avila, the 16th century Spanish Carmelite nun and mystic, uses a metaphor of the silkworm for talking about the soul's journey toward union with God:
You must have already heard about His marvels manifested in the way silk originates, for only He could have invented something like that. . . .The worms nourish themselves on mulberry leaves until, having grown to full size, they settle on some twigs. There with their little mouths they themselves go about spinning the silk and making some very thick little cocoons in which they enclose themselves. The silkworm, which is fat and ugly, then dies, and a little white butterfly, which is very pretty, comes forth from the cocoon. Now if this were not seen but recounted to us as having happened in other times, who would believe it? . . .Teresa, The Interior Castle
She goes on to equate the silkworm with the soul coming to life, and the cocoon time with resting in prayer in Christ.
Now, then, let's see what this silkworm does, for that's the reason I've said everything else. When the soul is, in this prayer, truly dead to the world, a little white butterfly comes forth. Oh, greatness of God! How transformed the soul is when it comes out of this prayer after having been placed within the greatness of God and so closely joined with Him for a little while...Teresa, The Interior Castle
This is a season for butterflies and moths of all colors, all of whom have gone through their own time of transformation.
"Instructions for living a life:
Tell about it."
Mary Oliver in "Sometimes"
I've taken on a prayer practice of looking for the moments of light in each day, whether actual or metaphorical, and then writing or posting photos of what I find.