Butterflies

There you were lying in bed
  your century-old body a fetus
  — back to the beginning.
I sat by you
  not expecting a conversation
  — but did you know I was there?
Your room so sparse —
  but above you,
  stirring in the current,
  was a mobile of butterflies —
  red, green, purple.
Then I saw
  you wrapped in a cocoon,
  its wispy threads growing
  around and around you.
The butterflies, detached from the mobile,
  fluttered around you,
  lighting on you
  and fluttering all about you.
Then I saw deeper
  past Eternity's gate
  and beheld your cocoon
  in the brilliant, transparent, diverse Garden,
  butterflies all about.
You hatched from your cocoon
  refreshed, renewed,
  strong and whole,
  beautiful and alive.
You spread your wings
  and fluttered through the Garden,
  lighting on rose and tulip and lily —
Free.

©2009 John A. Mills