| Dancing Butterfly, Why couldn’t I envision your beauty and grace When you, a fuzzy crawling creature, Were inching your way upon a leaf underfoot? You almost got stepped on, But must have been meant to Escape that immediate fate. And as I gently nudged you onto my finger, You whispered to me about what you would become. At that moment I could not understand. Of course you were cute and soft and funny, but you looked so different then! And what about when, bound by a gray-brown cocoon, You hung, apparently lifeless, from a tree? You weren’t really dead. You were only being, throughout it all, Very necessarily YOU. Held fast in the home your caterpillar self So industriously spun To protect you, to nurture you, To hide you away until you sprouted wings... Then, Flitting from flower to flower, nose to shoulder, You landed in a gloriously colorful celebration; A delicately sculptured Promise fulfilled. Sarah Gallant © 2003 |
| Butterfly's Promise |
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| click on the butterfly above to read "Sometimes Life is A Metaphor" by Debra Welch |