A Sense of Wings

with E M I L I A

My mom sent me
a little quote today
(right before
I hopped in the shower)
that said a butterfly
can’t see it’s own wings—
but everyone else can.

As I stripped
off my clothes
and put myself
in the benevolent
stream of water,
I wondered...

Even though
a butterfly
can’t see
their beauty,
what if they
can feel it?

What if they
are so sensitive
to the intricate
patterns and colors
woven through
their delicate
fabric
body
and the
different degrees
they absorb
and reflect
the warmth
of the sun…
they can
actually sense
the nuances
of grace
painted
across their
shoulders?

What if
the light
that reveals
them
to the world
also
reveals
them
to
themselves?

What if
their receptivity
to all life
lets them
breathe as
the watercolors
spirit poured
across their
backs?

What if they
can perceive
the imprint
of the creator
in the soft structures
formed in the
tender darkness
of the cocooning heart
that stretch out
into the wind
and allow
them to fly?

What if
their experience
of being
is so exquisite—
the nectar
and nature
of their life
so complete—
there is never
any question
of beauty
at all?