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There is something in the flight of each butterfly
that oft' reminds me of the path you used to take;
fluttering from sweet to beautiful, to danger and
just escaping a mockingbird and the colliding cat.

I watched in amazement as you went about your way,

each task important to you and this luscious garden.

Your time brief, too brief, reminds me to remember
there was once more to you than just this one form.

Again I marvel at the flight of a beautiful butterfly
I think of the paths it may chance or desire to take.
Should I offer sweets, dangle pretties, safety, and
will it get along with the old bird, humor me at that.

I watched in amazement as it went on about its way,

each task more important to it than my old garden.

Once, was a day to remember, a glorious September.
Time brief, but we handle brief too when we mourn.

I think of all the wonders it might dare to show me.
Worlds beyond my gate and garden where it is free.
Offerings of sights and sounds and fragrant isles
tempt a once adventuresome spirit into exotic wilds.

I watched in amazement and love this butterfly day;

put down my net and clippers, to follow on its way.

Finally, knowing life brief and seldom unremembered;
But full of luscious gardens in which to become reborn.

Ali Cecilie Sonder 2001