Today I spent what felt like an eternity
Watching a white butterfly out of my sliding door
Going about its’ business
Bothering nobody as it flew from bloom to bloom.
I found it relaxing
As its’ movements took me away
From the woes of the world
Created by mankind.
The white butterfly then flew in through my sliding door.
It was a welcome guest.
Again, bothering nobody
But I guess it had to leave to get back to natures’ work.
When my children were small
They built a sandcastle and placed flowers in it.
They called it their butterfly garden.
Who but a child could think of such a concept?
My white butterfly flew off.
I wonder where to?
Or perhaps another butterfly garden.