to catch a butterfly,
can be a challenging task.
for, oh, how they flutter,
swiftly, to and fro.
chasing one is futile,
always out of reach.
wild, desperate grabs
yield nothing but air.
yet one can extend a hand,
motionless, like stone,
and, through patience,
attract the creature.
for that which is sought,
does not wish to be captured,
but to choose of its own accord,
the heart on which to alight.
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