Fortunate one

by Nina Kossman

* * *

Fortunate one,
born two days ago,
you have twelve more days to live,
a whole eternity,
depending on how you think about it,
but you don’t think
this way or that,
all you do is flap-flap
your pretty wings,
newborn butterfly,
you circle my lilac tree,
it, too, has only one month to bloom;
you don’t worry about mortality
nor stay in your room
to guard yourself from the flu,
you’re happy
to be alive this moment,
because this moment is life,
and that’s all that matters.
Fortunate one,
born two days ago,
you have no memories
of being a helpless cocoon;
why can’t we be like you,
beautiful butterfly,
why can’t we flap our wings
and be thoughtless
like you.