There was once an odd butterfly. That’s me.
I dislike my wings (they’re ugly). But I love to fly.
I hated my life. But I never wanted to die.
Honestly, I grew up a normal butterfly.
I didn’t have many friends. I didn’t know my parents.
Didn’t have much choice of food. Didn’t have much choice of talent.
But hey, life went on. Make the best of it.
I did what I did. Day out and day in.
Same old routine. Sipping tree sap, relaxing.
One fine, flowery, bright mooned, windy night.
A scent attracted me as it blew by.
One look at her, a tear dropped from my eye.
What’s this happy crying going on?
I have met females before. So I have to wonder.
Is this a biological reaction, to seeing my mother?
Slowly, my curiosity led me to a stranger.
Slowly, this stranger became a friend. We knew each other from antler-nose to sticky-toes.
Slowly, this friend, oh you could say, we got pretty close, pretty close.
It took me a while to realize this.
That her best interests became my heart’s desire.
And involvement from her, fueled my life’s fire.
But before I presented to her this notion.
Find I, another butterfly, to whom her heart has won.
And my, did they look cute. I could only look on.
I became quite close to him.
You see, she’d bring him, as we did our activities.
And I noticed some incapability.
However she chose to choose him nonetheless.
I thought she’d be good for me. But she was good for him too.
And life took a different turn suddenly, as she said “I do.”
Looking back, I knew I could’ve got to her.
But this love I felt wasn’t selfish in nature.
Fluttering around as I wonder, I realized my teacher.
Whom my heart still so desires to meet. My mother.
She loved me, this egg / caterpillar / butterfly, with all of her heart.
Yet, though hurt her desire, as nature designs, did she depart.
I know how you feel mom.
Strong, intense desire to hold, to care, to see future grow.
But find a love powerful and unselfish enough, to let go.