Zhuangzi dreamed of being a butterfly
and the butterfly on waking became Zhuangzi
each body so easily becoming the other
who can tell of the end  of the endless changes of things
Li Po

In my small garden     a world
full of dew and spring
       I wander.

Over there     a momentary hovering
stillness    the singular splash
       of a fritillary

its orange glow and scalloped wing
riddled with eyes     begging
       to be seen.

The butterfly becomes the flower
merges     then emerges    a blazon
       of delight,

lifts its wing to flash the underside
a radiance of scarlet/ orange/ sienna
       black and white–

formerly     the worm that crunched
my pieris japonica/ passionflower/
        & rhododendron.

Its striped and hairy spiked ugliness
transformed into fiery crimson
        flight

flitting here and here    sampling /
engaging / disengaging    lured
        by a romance of blooms.

A second appears from nowhere
flashing his seductive beauty
        an urgent flapping

ritual nuptial dance of fire wings
his wing-clap rite inviting his lady
       to lend him her antennae.

Their together-dance     a cipher
whisper wind     two conspire
       a seamless merging.

They linger     four wings suspended
a magical ornament on a single bloom
       a pair of linked jewels.

Cordelia Hanemann, writer and artist, currently co-hosts Summer Poets, a poetry critique group in Raleigh, NC. Professor emerita retired English professor, she conducts occasional poetry workshops and is active with youth poetry in the North Carolina Poetry Society.  She has published in numerous journals including, Atlanta Review, Laurel Review, and California Quarterly and numerous others; in several anthologies including best-selling Poems for the Ukraine and her chapbook. Her poems have been performed by the Strand Project, featured in select journals, won awards and been nominated for Pushcarts.