My Butterfly

I was honored to attend our cousin, Shelby's 9th grade reading this week. The students were tasked with writing and performing a poem. Shelby wrote of her bond with Avery, a cousin she only met via I-Message. I am still in awe of the talent of such a beautiful, young woman. I am so proud of the young woman she is becoming and so proud of my Avery who continues to touch the lives of those around us. Again I am reminded that Avery's memory will continue on as she watches us from above.

Avery
written by Shelby Beach

She started as a caterpillar;
a tiny, nearly complete creature,
growing and developing
until metamorphosis took hold.
The wings she grew were
magnificent,
a bright, vivid pink
so different from the others.
Treasured and adored.
She symbolizes love,
beauty,
and the whole hearts
of those who crossed paths with her,
whether it was during
the nine months in the womb
or the six days she spent with us.
Because, you see,
this is no ordinary butterfly.
This is my butterfly.
The one I watched
grow and develop,
who was a princess
to the family that was mainly princes.
Who defined for me
unrefined beauty,
and just how capable my heart is
of loving someone,
though even someone so new,
and so small.
The trouble with butterflies though
is their time spent in the garden is short.
They come along,
Jump from flower to flower,
Family member to family member,
Pollinating so as to
Bud something within our hearts…
Then they fly from us
as quickly as they arrived.
She landed on Earth,
captivated everyone simply by existing,
then, using her ornate wings,
ascended to the angels.
But there remains the memory
of the caterpillar growing,
breaking free of the cocoon.
There’s always her,
emerging as a beautiful little girl;
her perfect, tiny features,
though stolen from my eyes
too soon.
There's always her.
As long as these live on,
I will continue the life she began,
until the day we can fly together...
pink wings,
connected by a blue sky
and a cousinly bond
that will never separate us.