The Butterfly Or Me Poem by Jim Yerman

I was walking in my yard when what should catch my eye
perched for a moment on a flower…but a blue butterfly.

I watched her flit from bud to bud…footloose and fancy free…
and I thought…I am aware of her…is she aware of me?

As she alights upon a flower…or flutters through the air…
does she know that she is beautiful..does she even care?

Is a butterfly capable of understanding?
Is she aware of time?
Are bigotry and hatred in a butterfly universe?
Does she worry about war or crime?

When she looks out on her world…
is she ever saddened…or appalled?
and I wondered…
is a butterfly
troubled by anything at all?

I watched her a while mesmerized
As she danced unrestrained and innocently
which made me wonder…
who's more blessed…
the butterfly…
or me?