A Butterfly and a Man

A Butterfly and a Man

I was going
sixty - miles an hour
northbound on
interstate 71
this past Saturday afternoon.
And I remember that
I needed to call my attorney
regarding a civil suit
I’m involved in.
I glanced down
to my cell phone
(an extremely unsafe practice)
and dialed the first three numbers,
7 - 7 - 1.
My phone started vibrating
before I got to the fourth,
(my wife calling seeing when I’d be home)
startling me
and causing me
to look straight up
at a large reclining chair
sitting in the middle of the freeway,
directly in front of me.
There was no time
to have my life flash before my eyes,
there was no time for horns,
signals,
or signs.
On the cement I left
thick black rubber marks
as I swerved into the lane on my right.
There was no time to look,
and so I am blessed
that I did not run my car into someone.
Frightened,
I glorified God
for saving my life.
I shook with uncontrollable cold.
I should be dead.
There is no hyperbole there.
I should be
at the moment I’m writing this
having my chest cut open
by Elizabeth Balraj,
Cuyahoga County Coroner.
Instead I’m still here,
alive,
and well.
There was no time
for signs
on Saturday afternoon.
But when I got home
at 11:30 at night on Saturday,
a peculiar sight:
sitting at my porch
was a large
Eastern Swallowtail
Tiger Wing Butterfly,
waiting for me.
I rushed in to tell my wife
who insisted a butterfly
would not be sitting
on our porch at night.
I studied it,
while it studied me,
and I held it in
the palm of my hand
regarding its face,
and its proboscis.
It was unlike
the needled appendage
of a mosquito,
made for piercing.
Rather it was
curled up
and made
for sipping.
At one time this thing
was a greedy caterpillar
with very small teeth
made for eating leaves.
Made for destroying.
Now it eats nectar
and flutters, beautifully
I regarded this
and took it into
consideration.
When a caterpillar
spins its chrysalis,
it crawls inside
and dies.
The insect actually melts,
physically disappears
into a soupy mess
before being
reassembled
with a new face,
new wings,
new heart,
new life.
I considered this,
and my near death experience
as it considered me
as we stood together
on my porch.
Sometimes God whispers,
sometimes he shouts.
And sometimes
he sends a butterfly.