Butterfly View

The grace behind a caterpillar gait,
the gauze-thick stillness muffling dying
while hung from one thin twig--the slice, the break--
You are the sun's embrace of these wet wings,
and You the warmth, the warning: "Do not touch."
The architect of each flight's filament,
dust-wonder wings You coax aloft to brush
the sea-deep substance of the firmament.
Invisible, You hold both flake and sky,
Your nearness much too large to understand,
the warp and woof through soul and body
spread out beyond the last round curve of land.

In You, our living, moving, being,
our wild winging, almost seeing.