A butterfly's season

If Robert Frost is right
then butterfly…
“fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind”

The wind lifts and tosses
crosswinds bat about your delicate state
You know your fate….
when trees begin to sleep
when leaves fall to the ground
the wind will carry you off
to another place
a warmer spot
then…
Who will inspire,
when cold colorless blankets
cover the land?
When the earth hardens like
a bitter unforgiving heart.
Will we see your colors again?
Will we remember your flight?
Your dance in the new spring light?
How is it that you find your way back?
In a dream or a new wind stream?
Who would have thought …
you,
so small and insignificant
so fragile and short lived
could fly so high
be so strong
than afterward …
when the snow is gone,
return.

cjb