Wings of Hope

I’ve mentioned before that I sometimes use ChatGPT to help me write a poem.  Anyway, a few days ago I was walking in my garden and I found a butterfly that had just emerged from its chrysalis. It was too wet and cold for its wings to dry. I moved it to my porch so it would be out of the rain but it still wasn’t doing anything but just hanging there on a branch. So I eventually brought it in and put it in a small aquarium. I’ve tried to take her back outside a few times and she doesn’t seem to be strong enough to go. Anyway, I wrote this poem about her and about us….those of us who are struggling with the weight of everything going on in the world today but longing to spread out wings and fly again.

Wings of Hope

A winter’s day, and passing by,
I saw an emerged butterfly.
From her chrysalis she is unbound,
But a cold, wet day is what she found.

The day is too wet for her wings to dry;
On this day, no chance to fly.
The air too cold, she hangs in place—
Her chance for life a fragile race.

I brought her in, gave what I could:
A sheltered home, a drop of food.
She drinks, she rests, she clings to hope,
But will it be enough to cope?

For isn’t she, in her fragile way,
Like those who wake to a weary day?
Bound by worries that steal their might,
Yet yearning still to take to flight.

The butterfly and I, we share
A battle fought with tender care.
A spark of life, a soul’s desire,
To rise again, regain our fire.

So I will guard her through the night,
Until the day grows warm and bright.
For even those with wings that fray
Can find the strength to fly one day.