From the beginning,
she displayed
a great lightness of spirit,

stretching in her mother’s arms,
her graceful hands and feet
seemed to dance in the air,

before taking her first steps,
she stood on tiny toes
like a ballerina waiting
for the orchestra’s cue,

she grew, as children do,
she skipped, she danced,

clover tickled her toes,
dandelion puffs brushed her nose,

on the swing set,
she almost touched the sky,

on firefly nights,
her feet left the ground
in great leaps of delight,

through magical days
and dream-filled nights,
gossamer wings grew
for future flight,

one evening, when the moon
shone like a beacon of light,
she lifted toward the starry skies,

she’d finally become the butterfly
she was always meant to be,

free to soar
above the earth,
free to fill the world with her
grace and spirit,

*****************

it’s hard to let them go,
we love our butterflies so,

leave on the light,

even the bravest
return to the cocoon of youth,
and the loving embrace of home.

Photo of my great niece taken by her mother, Alanna