The butterfly revels in the adoration of the sky

Its colorful wings fluttering beautifully

As it goes from flower to flower distributing its essence

Forgetful of the nights it spent

Being stomped upon and called ugly

Yesterday I was but a ray of light

Shining upon all that was around me.

Today I am a toad

Tomorrow I might be a speck of dust

To be shrugged off another’s coat,

Floating around, burdened with the crisis of my existence

Yesterday I cursed the rain for ruining my day

Today I bless it for masking my tears

The farmer thanks the Lord for his crops

The mason wishes it never rains

Tomorrow I might be rain, or maybe a grain

To sprout that the farmer might rejoice

Or fall that the mason might be annoyed

Maybe a caterpillar,

That the butterfly may be called beautiful

Or a butterfly,

That the flowers may pollinate

Whichever form I take, I shall exist

That I may serve my purpose

Whether as light to shine upon

Or as dust to be dusted away.

Or as a toad

To be a toad.