On a trail in Yellowstone
I am suddenly surrounded
By shimmering blue orbs:
Mountain bluebirds
Taking wing in the sunlight;
How many, I cannot say,
But for endless seconds
They are all around me
Before they disappear.
Years pass...
Another season,
Another National Park,
I am drawn to the side of the trail,
To the shadow of laurel bushes,
And there discover
Many butterflies
Of every pearlescent hue,
Some dying, some dancing,
And some creating new life.
I watch in awe
As one, then two,
Land on my hand,
And I feel blessed.