Beckoning Butterfly

Come out and watch me dance,
said the butterfly,
don’t sit inside that old tree
meditating.
Come out here
where you can feel the breeze
caress your cheeks,
where my beauty will catch your eye,
where you can feel the pulse of the creek underground,
where the jumble of logs
reminds you
of the jumble of your thoughts.

Watch me rest,
first here on the leaf,
then on that long branch.
Rest and fly, rest and fly.
Dance with another,
then be on my way.

Sit out here and rest with me.
Watch the willows sprout
and the ants scurry.
Rest your wings on the log.
Know this place
before you too get up and fly away.