I was meandering,
through the infinite gardens
on a sunny day.
When who should arrive
as I took my photographs,
minding my business?
Mrs. Butterfly,
with her lazurian wings,
gently shimmering.
She landed near by,
on a stark blooming crimson,
resting from long flight.
We talked for a minute,
for what seemed like and hour.
No speech required.
A slight breeze picked up,
and she subtly explained,
how she must head out.
Her children waiting,
to take them to the flowers,
now that it is Spring.
So I saw her off,
waving as she fluttered by,
heading to the sun.
I continued on,
strolling through the pleasant scents,
smiling forward.
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