The butterfly’s wings flutter so fast they are almost a blur. So fragile they work hard to stay aloft,
uncertain as to whether they can finish the journey. The journey has been hard. And long.
The butterfly appears weak – almost transparent in appearance. Looks as if it might disintegrate on impact. But the butterfly has persevered. Has fought.
There is more to it than meets the eye.
A faded beauty that might not be the pick of the bunch. Might not capture anyone’s attention. Not many people know where this butterfly has
been; what it has seen; as it moves from branch to branch.
Maybe there’s also an anticipation in the fluttering. A new excitement that it barely dares to
believe possible. Is strength really
returning? Is a new day coming? Something is stirring in the leaves, and
rustles the butterfly wings...
The butterfly needs to know that it’s OK to be delicate, and
fragile sometimes. The butterfly longs
to be stronger and braver. The butterfly’s
wings hope to rise and fall to a stronger beat that resounds from somewhere deep
within. The butterfly longs for the heart of a lion.
Maybe she already has it.
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