The Butterfly

As I squint my eyes I come to find,
that I cannot see the butterfly.
She shows me here and says it’s there,
and I look around, desperately hoping.
I shrivel on the soft grass, in sorrow.
Why couldn’t I find the butterfly?
She tells me,
if you keep a lookout with an open heart,
and read between the lines,
nature’s ordinary will stand apart,
and Great Mother will give you signs.
She guides my eyes up to the shining sky,
and there it is, the butterfly!

I turn to see that she has gone.
Her time was up, my heart was torn.
But her spirit is always with me,
Forever in my heart.
Nature, a fitting place to live and die.
And I look up for one last time,
And there she is, the butterfly.