THE PAINTED LADY

On Sunday morning before church, I was having a cup of coffee thinking and praying about the sermon.  I decided it needed a finishing touch, so I penned the following poem to bring closure to the message.  Many of you have told me of your own butterfly experiences.  Several of you have asked for a copy of the poem.  The following is a revised version.

           The Painted Lady

Encased within a brown capsule

Hanging from a tree,

A lowly common caterpillar

Lives so much like me.

Encased within a dry cocoon

Struggling to be free,

Wings emerge with colors bright

To flutter in the breeze.

Faith is like a butterfly

Swirling in the blue

Metamorphosis of the spirit

Making all things new.

Christ Jesus summons each of us,

As Lazarus from the tomb,

“Come forth from your chrysalis.

I offer life to you.”

Hope is like a butterfly

Shimmering in the sun.

Simple prayers with gossamer wings

Ascend to the heavenly One.

With eager expectation

When this life is done

A resurrection promise

From God’s only Son.

Love is like a butterfly

Transformed by God’s great plan

Perching in the human heart

It helps us understand

That through life’s pain and heartache

We trust as best we can.

In goodness, grace, and mercy,

We’re held in loving hands.

Like a butterfly on our shoulder

Touched by tender love,

The Spirit ever with us

As wind or fire or dove

Or maybe as a butterfly –

A gift from God above,

Promise of His faithfulness,

Assurance of His love.

All blossoms bright and beautiful

All flowers short and tall

Handiwork of the Father,

Creator of us all.

The God who made all creatures

Both great and very small

Gives nectar for the butterflies

and provides nurture for us all.

In the muggy heat of summer

Or cooler autumn days

In garden, field or forest

Thanksgiving prayers I raise.

When I see a butterfly,

I am utterly amazed.

I catch my breath in silent awe,

Lost in wonder, love, and praise.

Kirk H. Neely

2006