a simple way (#3)

There's so little time

to share these quiet notions.

Like when you point out to me

the calling of the birds

and I call your gaze to a butterfly on a stone.

See how she flaps her wings?, I'll say,

like she's breathing slowly.

Did you see how she's shifting, quietly, on the rock?

Did you catch the sun filtering

through her fine lashes?

She's content, and contentment

is beautiful,

I'll say.

What do you think

of a butterfly's colorful way

of just being?

My eyes will look toward yours,

as her thoughtful wings say simple things.

I wonder if you'll understand.