Trap, Trap, Trappings

You were trapped for days, yet you said nothing. Nothing that I could hear, at least. With your time, you silently meditated refusing to be frantic about your plight. And when i realized what I'd done, it was then that you simply took back to your flight. On a windy day it seemed your wings gave you no control, but after being trapped, I wonder, did it really matter what direction you went? Fly on, butterfly.

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Charaxes brutus natalensis. Pictured in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania Français : Charaxes brutus natalensis. Photo prise à Dar es Salaam, en Tanzanie. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I walked out of my office to close the windows after I'd opened a few of them last night. Cooler temperatures at night, you know. It was then that I discovered a butterfly that I'd trapped between a window and the screen--a window that I happened not to open last night--who knows how many days ago that occurred. I apologized to the butterfly, and when I opened the window, it didn't move, perhaps still unsure that it was again free. Perhaps, too weak to fly. Perhaps, too deeply entranced in a patient game. With a flick of my fingernail on the screen, I nudged it onward and it swiftly flew into the wind and was carried quickly across the street and out of sight, blending in with the background on a journey to somewhere, nowhere, anywhere, wherever.

So, I wondered. Sometimes we accidentally trap others, and other times we're mistakenly trapped. Sometimes we have to panic and other times realize, with no other choice, to accept introspection and be patient. Apologize when you've mistakenly closed the trap. Or, if trapped, when the door opens... spread your wings and fly.