A lone butterfly clings onto a small black rock
on a sandy beach
versus the strong sea wind.
Her wings’ beautiful orange and black lined patterns
flutter against the howling gale –
which to the giants relaxing nearby
is a soothing summer breeze.
What does she know?
How does she feel?
If she lets go, she will surely be swept up by the wind,
tossed and tumbled,
maybe smashed against another lone rock,
or picked up by a crosswind and pushed out to the sea
to be lost on endless waving plains.
She knows to hold on.
She can feel her wings stretching and straining,
struggling to hold on in place.
But whether she knows it or not,
the wind will fade,
whether or not she can hold on for that long.
When the wind does finally fade,
not enough to ensure that she will make it
but at least enough to give her a chance,
she takes that chance,
and she releases her hold,
and she flies free,
fighting on with the wind,
perhaps with the hope
of someday reaching calmer plains.