I sit on a hill, watching the sky.
When a butterfly just happens by.
I struggle with emotions and then I sit
Up and gaze in amazement and wonder at it:
So strong, yet fragile.
So brave, yet afraid.
Majestic, but humble.
Graceful, yet awkward.
I reached up and plucked it out of the air.
Using my hands with the utmost care.
For if I were to touch its wings at all,
It would cease to fly and begin to fall.
It perched on my finger with daring ease,
In order to catch a passing breeze.
As it rose into the air, my emotions welled up again.
But I figured that I could not complain.
So I happily went upon my way,
A single butterfly had fixed my day.
Just an old poem I found written by an old friend a looooong time ago, I'm not sure he knows it even exists anymore, but I think it's beautiful.