A blue butterfly
fluttering around.
Wings rapidly beating
without a sound.

Nobody understands yet
why that makes me weep.
That blue butterfly
that I always seek.

Observering it
is making me proud.
As it settles on that familiar grey bucket
next to me on the ground.

It’s colors resembling
the starry sky.
No one suspecting the hidden depths
that therein lie.

Strange phenomena has it seen:
Heat and snow
storm and lightning;
even in a tornado has it been.

Gone through time and space
now it’s here.
Yet only one answer
is abundantly clear.

Again and again
through repeatedly reliving.
Life is strange
and unforgiving.