A fairyland of wonders
surely must be the thoughts of the butterfly
as it flutters to freedom from its cocoon,
conscious wings of instant energy
count the strokes from beginning to end
as one follows the other very soon.
The heavens
provide the space for the winged tapestry
to glide and to soar,
occasionally stopping to rest upon a petal —
and after a blink or two,
it’s off again to explore.
During the season
all the riches of the world had been touched
from north, south, east, and west,
and with the journey ended
the keeper of all things beautiful
laid the floating flower to rest.
The butterfly
did not appear to be a seeker of life’s answers
nor did it waste God’s gift of time —
unlike man, it knew
the importance of living without searching —
such a riddle should certainly be put to rhyme.