Another Way

All is shot,
Or so it seems,
But butterflies remain
Remarkable things.
Their constancy,
Unfettered flight,
In times of sadness
Is a delight.
With the norm
We often don’t see
The creatures’
Flights of majesty.
The flier
Whose labours do not cease.
A trier
Who overcomes
All grief.
So when skies close in
With dawn a-grey
Spy the butterfly
And learn
Its way.

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