To Be a Butterfly

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As the seasons evolve from a frozen cocoon of isolation into a warm veil of life, I find myself awakening anew. 

Throwing aside my crystallized prison I climb high upon the twig sensing there is work to do.

Through fresh feet I taste the sweet hickory treat that supported my early days.

Spreading my blessed beauties for the world to see the complex patterns and gorgeous symmetry.

 

Take flight, up high, soaring through the sky.

Oh’ how marvelous, to be a butterfly.

 

Instinct, my compass I glide, with a sea of blurred hues influencing my decent.

Landing atop a blossom I begin to sample scrumptious nectar, a sensation unparalleled.

 

Gorge lite, what delight, I simply can’t deny.

Oh’ how marvelous to be a butterfly.

 

I flutter from flower to flower pollinating my succulent treats, until the radiant rock lights up the atmosphere

As time passes I’ll leave orbs of gentle spirits under the floral green, my final mission.

Becoming one with the luscious green, I fade away, evolve into nourishment for the orbs to feed.

 

Fading fast, at rest, a cycle undenied.

Oh’ what it means to be a butterfly.

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