Of Belonging

The swallowtail paid a visit this morning, 
a flutter of striped wings,
tipped itself in hello 
as we sipped coffee 
and looked up from our morning paper. 

We smiled at the swallowtail then each other. 
You swear it is the transformed caterpillar 
we rescued from certain death 
as it hung from the dog’s lip
and then tenderly placed 
in safety on the gourd vine leaves
growing by the wood pile.

I do not know. It could very well be.
It is beautiful in its flight.
Its morning joyful greeting of belonging,
of having found its place.

These mornings are life here with you.