The Butterfly

The butterfly danced in front of me gleaming in the golden sun.
I glimpsed it for a second, it was a whisper...
All alone and one.
The butterfly pranced around,
On a large yellow sunflower.
Wing beat quietly... without a sound.
Then it got carried away by the wind, flew away from me.
I desperately ran after it,
For again... again I wanted to see:
The delicate wings of spun rainbows, skillfully trained wings.
I wanted to hear and observe the speed.
Rushing along with motion it always sings.
I looked up at the sky, the day had grown dark already.
And now it was lit by a thousand stars.
There to light up and be steady.
The stars were minuscule dots that gleamed...
How, I wondered... how?
Then the butterfly came to mind.
Small it had been, but it had flown... and danced.
Like the Jews... who dance together.... prance alone.