A butterfly floats past me as the sun rays warm my face. I love butterflies for they represent hope, freedom and dreams. Which life would be unbearable with ought. Like a night with ought stars. If you have ever watched a butterfly you would learn that they float up and down, swaying left and right, their frail wings in a blur. Life is this way, unexpected; it changes in one flap of a butterfly's wing. For life would be so boring with ought change, although difficult, like it is for a butterfly to dance in the air, it makes life more beautiful. It is hard to imagine that the colorful butterfly that so effortlessly floats from flower to flower was once a slimy, wriggly, caterpillar. I think some people are this way, caterpillars waiting to become butterflies, or butterflies who think they're still caterpillars. All this time this butterfly dances around me effortlessly. I whisper one of my dreams onto its paper wings and watch it carry a part of me far far away.