Tossed by a stiff breeze, she maneuvered her landing with resolute precision.
As her delicate legs, no wider than a hair, glued her in place,
She arched her delicate wings at me.
I held my breath, awestruck that she had spoken to me.
Of all the creatures in the universe, at this exact moment, a windswept butterfly chose to speak to me.
How should I respond?
A simple, “hi” seemed mundane, but how does one undertake a conversation with a butterfly?
Fearing my silence would drive her away, I spoke.
Then, feeling inept, I said,
Thank you, was her reply.
The perception of external beauty is reflected from within, I read in the graceful movement of her wings.
How is it you fly on such a blustery day? I asked.
You’re so fragile; why does the wind not tear you apart?
A wing rose as she turned a half-circle to the right.
I felt her chuckle, amused by her windblown, yet much more solid companion.
It’s simple really, she said. I wait, patiently mind you, for the right current.
Then, I ride it, ever mindful of turning into, not away from, the flow.
Suddenly, the wind shifted and I sensed her departure was imminent.
I knew a part of me would fly with her.
I voiced this to my new friend.
I swear I saw her smile.
Of course, she said. And a part of me will go with you.
The nature of life is to form a bond wherever we go.
We give in order to receive the bond.
Too often, her wings spoke, we fail to give and thus miss a grand opportunity to enrich the universe.
So, continue your journey, my friend, and when you think of me again, think of the giving, and we shall both be blessed.