You talk about the butterfly:
A tender, fragile thing.
As a caterpillar in a cocoon
It spends its life waiting.
Agog over its innocence,
You stare at it in awe!
Your sane descriptions lose sense
When the butterfly goes hence
You admire its fragility
How it could just disappear
but the better choice is stability
To fly one long life without fear
Still there is a part of you
That wishes it could be
A simple idiot butterfly too
from your duties and worries free