Butterfly Wings and Dainty Things

She came like a dream on butterfly wings with the rising of each dawn.

She with landed with a delicate tap on flowers that sadness had sown.

The petals lay burnt and curled; almost shattered beneath her feet.

Their giving nectar was long gone; yet she came to give…not to feed.

She gave just a brief touch; a gentle caress on the flowers withered soul.

Her time was short, and the garden which surrounded her was beautiful and whole.

Yet still she came each dawn to the flowers that bitter sadness had sown.

The colors that adorn her wings are brilliant; her markings are beautiful and fair.

With the rise of the sun; with the break of each dawn she still comes to the flowers of despair.

Never does she cease to give her tender touch, and then one day when she came….

The flowers which were sown in sadness… were no longer there.

In their sad place there stood a most beautiful array.

For the butterflies compassion had made such a change.

Brilliant reds mixed with lavender hues now surpassed the surrounding blues.

Still she landed on petals now firm yet soft….however this time to the butterfly….

Sweet nectar was given unto her one hundred fold for she showed compassion on what many thought to be lost.

(The moral of the story is…just because something or someone has been burnt by the trials of life and there seems like there is little from this subject in which to receive….it is by giving that one should get more for all one has to do is in compassion believe.)

J. Allen Wilson © 1/13/2009