by Martin Wiles
I watched the butterfly
Emerge from its shell of change,
I wondered at the metamorphosis—
Once a caterpillar, now like a bird in the sky.
I gazed upon each maneuver it made,
Fluttering gently in the morning breeze.
Like the restlessness of one driven by a dream,
It flew from flower to tree, from flower to tree.
Upon its wings the sun cast its rays,
Enhancing the beauty once hidden from view.
The wind carried it tranquilly along
Like the gentle flowing melody of a song.
Void of all care and concern,
It glided slowly through each day—
No worries or troubles afflict its soul,
No heartaches carried to the grave.
Happiness was embedded upon its face,
A song played by the stroke of each wing.
No prettier sight could I ever behold
As beauty seeped from its every pore.
Until he gazed upon the man
Who often lied and stole and harmed his kind.
He saw so little kindness and peace—
though bound it was in his heart.
Then wished he to return to his cocoon
Where peace and joy and love abode,
But chose instead to spread his wings of beauty and love
And drop it on the ugliness below.
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