THE BUTTERFLY OR ME

I was walking in my yard when what should catch my eye

perched for a moment on a flower…but a blue butterfly.

 

I watched her flit from bud to bud…footloose and fancy free…

and I thought…I am aware of her…is she aware of me?

 

As she alights upon a flower…or flutters through the air…

does she know that she is beautiful..does she even care? 

 

Is a butterfly capable of understanding?

Is she aware of time?

Are bigotry and hatred in a butterfly universe?

Does she worry about war or crime?

 

When she looks out on her world…

is she ever saddened…or appalled?

and I wondered…

is a butterfly 

troubled by anything at all?

 

I watched her a while mesmerized

As she danced unrestrained and innocently

which made me wonder…

who's more blessed…

the butterfly…

 

or me?



 

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