Conversation with a Butterfly

Past the candle factory,
past the fossil store and antique malls,
and then you’re there.

You can’t tell from the gray sky
or the melting brown snow outside, but
this is it.

Celtic melodies and Amazon mist greet you as
tortoises and wingless birds play.
Cross the footbridge with
multicolored creatures swimming underneath, and
now you’re home.

Butterflies!
With a weeklong lifespan,
they live more fully than most people ever will, even
over a hundred years.

But what’s that I see up there in the greenhouse vent?
You flew too high and perished,
dead at the hands of an angel with flaming sword.
O wretched insect, don’t you know it’s a harsh world out there?
You should have remained in your garden of paradise.