I saw the butterfly flutter by
and marveled at its tapestry
of colors I would have never paired
yet danced together beautifully
so often I see butterflies
and forget the once upon a times…
a season ago I would have seen
the caterpillar inching by
or perhaps to say more accurately
I would have not seen nor asked why
such small insignificant larvae
rarely catch a second eye
the tiny creature, unmajestic
some girls squirm and turn to run
but he keeps inching, crawling, searching
for the tree branch to be hung
the loveliest metamorphoses
begin with death upon a tree
the caterpillar to the butterfly
logic (not science) says it must not be
magic (not faith) says it’s a mystery
hope (not resignation) says this is me
thus I glorify the butterfly
and cherish the one it’s locked inside
