A bug on the ground, never seen before,
Long and round, so different.
Moving now, it floats on top of bricks,
No legs in sight, scary I think.
Fuzzy, crawling towards me,
Slowly at first, like babies do.
Kneeling down, not quite trusting,
Sizing it up, close and cautious.
Brown with yellow, looking soft to me,
Grandma says, “It’s okay to touch.”
Gentle, with a finger whisper,
Careful not to hurt.
Guess what? It’s a Caterpillar,
Soon to be a butterfly.
How can this be?
God’s magic, it’s a miracle.
Crawling creature ruffle wings into a breeze.
Lots of questions.
When will this happen? Is it true? Will the butterfly be blue?
Will it eat from a flower or drink from the fountain?
Can we see it dance in your garden or flutter near a rock? Please, Grandma…P.L.E.A.S.E!
Does it fly high in the sky? Look at me! Like this, Grandma? Like….this?
Butterfly, I will see you in my dreams. Up..up..up. See, waaay up there…
High in the sky. Please wave to me with wings of blue on clouds of cream,
I will never forget this lesson of bugs and miracles of God.
Good-bye, Caterpillar. I love you, Butterfly…..