So many choices, I think when one transitions from our present life to…?
Another somersault into another existence.
Becoming then the reality of an hitherto imagining… the look and feel of a “what if I had chosen a different path”.
And so my startling beautiful butterfly friend…
Who were you before?
I like to think you were(are) my love. Now, for a time, cloaked in color and floating and flitting, and landing, and soaring.
And searching still.