The blissful butterfly seems unconcerned,
while sipping nectar, flitting with its mate,
but it remembers everything it learned
when caterpillar seemed its only fate.
When it could merely inch along and feed
to saturate its flesh with pungency
of bitter leaves – a deft defense, indeed,
from predators from whom it could not flee –
it literally was embittered by
its appetite and all that it consumed.
It never dreamt that one day it would fly.
While lacking wings, how could it have presumed?
Recalling its state before pupation,
its pulsing wings signal celebration.