(708) 601.1080  
Butterfly Poems and Release Readings
In many cultures, the butterfly symbolizes the spirit. 
There are some beautiful, poignant writings on grief, hope and transformation that evoke imagery of the butterfly.  

Fly, fly, majectic one,
Monarch of the sky,
bring your joyful beauty
from Sierra Madra's lofty heights
to the plains of my midwest heart.
Find the nourishing milkweed,
kindly planted 
for your orange and black striped home.
Move slowly across delicate limbs
for a time yet to come
when the astonishing luxury
of your glorious presence
fills heart and soul with wonder and praise.
Move with your silent grace
for my being blossoms for you,
until your destiny is complete
and you wing to the higher realms
from which you came
for my heart, my soul,
are carried by you.
and I find rest.

-written by Paul Stiffler 2013 for the Gentle Butterfly

Paul is Minister of Pastoral Care at the First Congregational Church of Western Springs, IL.  He has authored Spiritual Pathways, and Make Angles in the Snow.

Beautiful and graceful,
varied and enchanting,
small but approachable.
butterflies lead you to the sunny side of life.
And everyone deserves a little sunshine.
-Jeffrey Glassberg
Love is like a butterfly - it goes wherever it pleases and pleases wherever it goes.
Just like the butterfly, I too will awaken in my own time.
-Deborah Chaskin
Life is a balance of holding on and letting go.

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning. 
-Louis L'amour
This is love:  to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life, then to take a step without feet.
A Symbol of Hope

A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam
And for a brief moment its glory
Belong to our world
But then it flies again
And though we wish it could have stayed...
We feel lucky to have seen it.
I Am Not There

Do not stand by my grave and weep
for I am not there.
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am diamonds that glint on snow.
I am sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush of butterflies in joyous flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.