I fairly new friend has been sharing with me her absolutely amazing photos of butterflies. I can never get them right in a photo myself. They close up their wings right when I want to take the shot or they flit when I need them to float. But I have caught them a bit in a poem I wrote a few years back now.

Fritillary Dance

Guessing when to tighten the muscle
So that delicate sails rise to attention,
And when to lay out flat in honest proclamation.
Knowing in your weightless being
The grace to soar in the warmth
Or pull and flap through a lull
And how to fall.
Living the design of your wings,
Trusting the breeze,
Tasting the blossom at your feet,
Resting on the outstretched finger of a leaf.
Arching through the sky's mutability
To write God's current name
In the breathless light of a day.