Dying Butterfly

By one of those obscure country roads 

I stumbled upon under the blazing skies

The death of a butterfly.

And I could feel my death inside me

Like I was the one fluttering for want of breath

As an image of infinite joy;

Like it was my colours that were fading into silvery wisps

As a piece cut from the brightest rainbow;

Like it was my own invalid cries echoing from stone to stone

As the chime of homely garden bells...

And my final strength still beating, thumping, yearning for lost life

As the most complete final note of an Otherworldly symphony.

All is now all lost on me.