Butterflies
are Angels
Butterflies
were sent to remind us that Angels are all around.
So when you
see a butterfly know what you have found.
A very,
special and precious gem;
No matter
how the night seems dim.
May
you have the strength of a butterfly
Who
travels to places on winds high;
To
accomplish a remarkable task,
Like
the mysterious changes of a butterfly's past.
Be
ye Lady or Gent;
At
just the right moment,
A
butterfly comes out of its cocoon;
Pray
morning, night or noon;
To
burst forth as a beautiful butterfly.
So
you, too, fly high!
Butterfly
Courage
Walking
down a path through some woods in Georgia in 1977,
I saw a water puddle ahead on
the path. I angled my direction to go
around it on the part of the path that
wasn't covered by
water and mud.
As I reached the puddle, I was suddenly
attacked! Yet, I did nothing,
for the attack was so unpredictable and
from a
source so totally unexpected.
I was startled as well as unhurt, despite having
been struck
four or five times already.
I backed up a foot and my attacker
stopped attacking me.
Instead of attacking more, he hovered in the air on
graceful
butterfly wings in front of me.
Had I been hurt, I wouldn't have found
it amusing, but I was unhurt,
it was funny, and I was laughing. After all,
I was being
attacked by a butterfly! Having stopped laughing,
I took a step
forward. My attacker rushed me again.
He rammed me in the chest with his head
and body, striking me over
and over again with all his might, still to no avail.
For a second time, I retreated a step while
my attacker relented in his attack. Yet again, I tried moving forward.
My attacker charged me again.
I was
rammed in the chest over and over again.
I wasn't sure what to do,
other than to
retreat a third time. After all,
it's just not every day that one is attacked by a butterfly.
This time, though, I stepped back several paces to look
the situation over. My attacker moved back as well
to land on the ground. That's
when I discovered
why my attacker was charging me only moments earlier.
He had a
mate, and she was dying.
She was beside the puddle where he landed.
Sitting
close beside her, he opened and closed his wings
as if to fan her. I could only
admire the love and courage
of that butterfly in his concern for his mate.
He
had taken it upon himself to attack me for his mate's sake,
even though she was
clearly dying and I was so large.
He did so just to give her those extra few
precious moments of life,
should I have been careless enough to step on her.
Now
I knew why and what he was fighting for.
There was really only one option left for me.
I carefully made my way around the puddle to
the other side of the path, though it was only inches
wide and extremely muddy.
His courage in attacking
something thousands of times larger
and heavier than himself just for his mate's
safety justified it.
I couldn't do anything other than reward him by walking
on
the more difficult side of the puddle.
He had truly earned those precious
moments to be with her,
undisturbed. I left them in peace for those last few
moments,
cleaning the mud from my boots when I later reached my car.
Since then,
I've always tried to remember the courage of that butterfly
whenever I see huge
obstacles facing me.
I use that butterfly's courage as an inspiration
and to
remind myself that good things are worth fighting for.
by
David L. Kuzminski
Click on candle to go to more poems