The Butterfly

The flap of a butterfly's wings,

Almost silent, but nearly deafening to me.

It brings me back to Earth again,

Out of my daze.

I watch it, the butterfly.

It's perched on a twig that doesn't look strong enough to hold itself up.

Yet, there's not the slightest bend from the butterfly,

Who's calmly flapping it's wings.

Suddenly, it flies off,

Faster than I expected,

And it's only a couple seconds before it's completely out of sight.

As I lay in bed that night,

Sleep avoided me.

I couldn't stop thinking about that butterfly.

It was beautiful.

Colorful but simple.

Delicate but strong.

Slow and calm, but fast and fearless.

They say the flap of a butterfly's wings can cause an earthquake a continent away.

This butterfly didn't cause an earthquake.

But it drastically altered my life.

We are born.

Calm and unknowing,

Helpless and weak.

Then, as if we had just woke up,

We know to fly.

To become strong.

It happens nearly overnight,

And then we are off,

Out of sight in seconds.

I know this,

Because that night,

As I lie awake,

I suddenly knew to fly.