Oh To Be A Butterfly

Oh to be a butterfly.
Cocoon would pave the way.
Arise, I would, from dark of death
to see the light of day.

Oh to be a butterfly -
to rise above the dead,
to spread my multi-colored wings
of orange, green, blue and red.

Oh to be a butterfly
with brilliant-colored wing,
that I would stretch and open wide -
and I could beauty bring.

Oh to be a butterfly
whose wings bring ne'er a sound.
reflecting brightly in the sun -
the prettiest around.

Oh to be a butterfly,
to float on easy breeze,
and softly drift to other fields
where flowers meet the bees.

Oh to be a butterfly
upon a little hill
and set atop a milkweed plant
where I'd be resting still.

Oh to be a butterfly,
to never worry why -
the oceans depths seem much too deep
or clouds seem much too high.

Oh to be a butterfly,
creation's grand rebirth -
inside of God's grand masterpiece
and handiwork on Earth.

Oh to be a butterfly
in flight and fully free -
and then to be in peace again
at rest on Jesus' knee.

Oh to be a butterfly
emerging from cocoon,
unfolding vibrant colors bright
on Sunday afternoon.