the butterfly and the bumblebee
I lived in a village in Quebec for five years while I was a care partner to my mom who lived with dementia. One day in 2017, as I walked along a trail that ran along the river, I came across a butterfly and a bumblebee sharing space on a plant.
This poem is about that. And since it’s the middle of winter and -20 C where I am right now, it seemed like a good time to finally post it.
Read it:
of course there is beauty
look closely and see
the butterfly next
to the stout bumblebee
orange, black, yellow
pink, purple and green
the colours of nature
paint a purpose-filled scene
they cling to a blossom
that blows in the breeze
though god gave them wings
to fly high and free
one solid and stocky
strong as it seeks
the other beside
looks fragile and meek
yet the monarch travels
three lifetimes to feed
on the milk of a common
canadian weed
the other works hard
with no end it would seem
enslaved to the will
of a powerful queen
the bee doesn’t bumble
and the fly doesn’t butter
still both of them use
a flower for an udder
the wind it grows stronger
far up in the trees
and causes the butterfly
to take a quick leave
the bee buzzes soft
intent with its mission
a nectar collector on a
deep fishin’ expedition
two beings as different
as you are to me
yet we all a have place
in the world golly gee
each of us meets
our life’s destiny
like the butterfly nomad
and the deft bumblebee
© Susan Macaulay 2020. I invite you to share this link widely, but please do not reprint or reblog or copy and paste my poems into other social media without my permission. Thank you.
note to self: do not argue with people whose purpose is to argue
robin williams on what it would be like if shakespearian actors did p**n movies
