Countless tiny butterflies flit

from wild flower to wild flower.

She bends to capture one, a brilliant

blue in color, and smiles as she feels its

graceful wings flutter against her skin.

Opening her hands to set it free,

it lingers awhile, slowly traveling across

her wrist and forearm, before flying away

and settling on a daisy close to her feet.

Once again she stoops to embrace it, and

it is almost as though it waits for her touch.

Yet, several seconds later, a worrisome look

crosses her face…she feels no movement and

fears that perhaps she has damaged its wings.

After unlocking her hands, she beams, almost as

luminous as the mid-day sun, for the vibrant blue

butterfly takes flight and then comes to rest on her

big sister’s shoulder.

And now, it is my turn to smile as I realize that the

sparkle of life never dies. It lives on...in lazy summer

mornings, in my children’s laughter and in the flutter

of  tiny butterfly wings.