a butterfly joined me on my walk

floating with grace 

her painted canvas wings

a fluttering heartbeat.

they made me pause.

what are you doing, butterfly?

i saw its past, i saw its future,

breaching its cocoon,

then faltering, returning

to the earth’s womb.

i wondered:

what are you doing, butterfly?

why?

you emerge, 

you return,

simply to grace our path?

why?

nature, so peculiar,

this thing you do.

the whole of life, 

it seems to have no other reason

than to be briefly beautiful