a butterfly flutters past my window.
hard to imagine it was once a caterpillar.

hard to imagine a butterfly was once a
strange-looking insect like that.

amazing the transformative power
of nature

except how it has transformed me
from a virile young stallion to a dried
up old nag.

I would like to be as buoyant as a butterfly
but those days are gone for me.

Now the only buoyancy I can attain
is the freedom of my impending death

when like the earthbound caterpillar that
transforms into the radiant butterfly,
this earth-cocooned body will be reborn
into the freedom of a buoyant, beautiful spirit.

Bob Boyd