A speck of vivid,
I see it follow fitfully in zigs
Until it lands on my hand,
All quivering color.
When I dare to breathe God’s breath,
Reciting as I exhale outwards,
A poem quickens and quivers,
Mimicking this butterfly.
Borne, hovering near,
The poem awaits a merciful heart
In one who will cup it to their ear
To hear a song I meant for thee.
It is a clue to me. Decipher it
Like the butterfly’s stripe, the iridescent dot:
A mysterious progenitor cryptically beckons
We follow its harbinger into a river of grass.
Thus cued, as butterfly kindred crowds the sky,
We seek the heartbreaker,
So sure it is God in a guise. Beguiled,
Soon we become an incurable sleuth.
Franciscan Retreat Center
Prior Lake, Minnesota
August 12th, 13th, 28th-31st, September 9th, 2016
Revision: March 15, 2017