From then on,
a legend spread throughout the butterfly world:
in the immortal spirit folk, there lived a prosthetics doctor
who could help butterflies mend their broken wings.
But that lovely butterfly doctor
was herself a flawed piece of jade.
Using a material that represented both flight and landing,
she let me continue a life that belonged to the sky.
I had already accepted the reality that I would rot in the earth,
but she told me not to give up flying.
I used the last of my life to fly back to my people,
and with my beautiful, tragic funeral,
offered my benefactor a magnificent new beginning.
How high can a butterfly fly in its brief, delicate life?
The answer is: if a child’s kindness burns brightly enough,
a butterfly can soar all the way to the sun.
