My story and how I felt about saving a fragile butterfly.
Fly butterfly fly away up in the tree and don’t injure your beautifully colored wings.
You light up the sun and day with the flapping of your lovely wings.
Every plant smells your velvety wings and wishes there was more of you.
The garden yearns for butterflies if only they could come by.
Fly as much as you can to know the different smells of gardens and places.
Make your short life a fulfilled one.
The butterfly struggles to get up and fly a struggle with a purpose.
You think it won’t happen soon, and looks a battle in your eye.
What you must understand is every person struggles with a purpose, even a butterfly.
To spread your wings and fly a free feeling that lies within.
A cocoon that opened up into a developing a peaceful creature.
As I watched the butterfly for many hours my mind was taken away from many stressful moments of the normal day.
You feel like catching its wings but when I reached out to touch the wonderful thing it flew to the next flower.
The body of the butterfly forces its way out a small hole, looking so lifeless but so full of energy.
It pauses for a while as if no movement to go on.
When you want to help the butterfly from the opening of the cocoon, it feels at ease and emerges.
The wings look stuck together, and the body looks quite bubbled up.
Hoping for the wings to grow bigger by just watching the butterfly won’t happen.
The poor butterfly lost its balance each time it tried to fly.
Why won’t the butterfly fly?
The great attempt of flying wasn’t successful, this should have been a natural process not disturbed by any human.
The fluid from the body flows into the wings of the butterfly to allow for flying.
The butterfly had accomplished just that, and started flying after nature took its course.
There was once a butterfly, with black striped wings, and a bit of red and yellow in color. A lonely butterfly, there was no other to play with.
The butterfly flew from one plant to the next looking for a partner but still there was none to be seen.
The colorful flowers and green plants was all it could see and smell. The sunny day turned into a rainy and dull day, and the butterfly’s wings had a touch of wetness on its soft delicate wings. It grew sad with nobody by its side.
I noticed the butterfly and wanted to play with the lovely creature, and wanted to give a warm home to the cold and lonely butterfly; I reached out in the garden and caught it, an easy fragile grip to the wet wings and it couldn’t fly much at that point.