Perfectly still, your beauty locked away within folded wings
I thought at first you were a black leaf blown in from the cold
but no, early March butterfly
maybe you crept from you chrysallis
in some ledge that caught a day’s sunlight.
Now you have been stranded in prayer
for days on our chancel step,
Maybe for you this is where
you make your journey from time to eternity.
your first and last resting place,
your glory hidden,
undisclosed.
.Hidden
We look for God
in the wrong place
so never see his face;
yet the kind heart
will play its part
with grace
and what is hidden to the mind
will yet be known to humankind.
To a butterfly, noticed on the chancel step at St. Nicholas, Ashmore
T
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