A poem of the butterfly
Wings of Wonder
She sits on the top of precious petals
Doing her thing, she doesn't meddle.
Natually going about her business,
Sucking on nectar, on all the richness;
That Mother Earth provided for her.
Pollinating along, while she travels,
So she can help plants to reproduce,
And, later on, you'll see all her fruits.
From the labor of these flying flowers,
They demonstrate their divinely powers,
In such a way, I cannot comprehend.
It's a cycle that doesn't end.
I embrace these small wings of wonder,
Throughout Earth, they do wander.
On a ubiquitous journey of their own,
They leave behind a display of a colorful show.
October 31, 2013