Spirit

The other day

I visited my parents

They have a tree where butterflies lay their eggs

And around this season,
I see newly-born butterflies

And often,
they are deformed

Approximately 50% of them have some kind of “difficulty”—

— they can’t fly, and die soon

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At night

Underneath my parents’ car

I saw a butterfly that had just become an adult

But
this one also seemed to have a problem with its wings

and unable to fly

---

For a moment, I wondered
why I had stopped here, instead of just walking toward the door and going inside the house

For a moment, I wondered
what this “sadness” was, rising within me

"..........I have nothing to do with this butterfly......this mere insect"

"..........this wasn’t one I took care of or waited to become a beautiful butterfly. It just suddenly appeared in my path, and my eyes 'mistakenly' caught this small insect"

"..........there’s no reason I should feel any attachment to this existence"

"but..........there is something very acute, very natural in the sadness I'm feeling now"

---

Perhaps
this is what is called "sympathy"

Even such a tiny, mere insect also has a soul and tries to live

just like humans
just like myself

"He" and "I" are both living existence

We are both under the same condition;

Born once — Die once

One life — One Death

An ephemeral life

Fundamentally, we are from the same place
And we are heading toward the same place too

---

........I wanted to give him something to eat

He was probably born last summer,
spent autumn & winter in a cocoon,
And now in spring,
he had finally become a butterfly

So much time had passed to reach here—

—here, in the middle of the concrete, beneath a car

---

And before his death

I wanted him to eat something — something sweet

My mother had a jelly for insects

I placed it in front of him

It probably surprised him, and he began to walk, ignoring the jelly

I put it in front of him a couple more times,
but he kept ignoring it

It felt like
I took a glance of his "will"

It felt like
even such a tiny existence has its own will that deserved to be respected

Respect
from one ephemeral living existence
to another ephemeral living existence

---

..........Next day came

He was not there anymore