this morning i watched as a small butterfly

fly back and forth from the dew on the grass

to the nectar in a blossom.

why this flower and not that?

who knows?

Love is like that.

why paint this and not that?

who knows –

there is so much to be attracted too,

and so much to attract.

Did the flower call the butterfly? – who called to you?

or did you make the call?

this is why we need so many artists,

and so many butterflies.

and of course, flowers.