“Come quick!” my daughter exclaimed as she threw open the back door. “There’s a monarch butterfly on the driveway!”I grabbed my camera and ran out.Resting so very still at first, soft wings shut tight, the creature could have been at the beginning of its life, or the end.Then those wings slowly opened, full-color beauty spread flat against dull concrete.She moved slowly, carefully, leaning slightly to one side as if inebriated.Free of blemishes, so perfectly formed, I soon realized she was a new creation simply finding her legs and working her wings.Wobbly, stepping lightly on thread-thin legs, she crept up my finger.She lingered on my soft perch for a long time, straight and stiff. Then, wings pressed downward, body curved out, stretching, she prepared for flight.Poised, pondering, planning for takeoff…And then, she was gone.
Tell me, what is it you plan to doWith your one wild and precious life?(Mary Oliver, from “The Summer Day“)
[L]et me know how fleeting is my life…Each man’s life is but a breath.(Psalm 39: 4b, 5)