O Butterfly

You are the majestic butterfly that dotted the flowers, bored quickly and constantly seeking the next beautiful flower in the garden. Whereas I am ugly the dirt covering this earth, getting stepped on, gnarly; constantly covered with manure, but diligently securing the seed, the rain, the roots for the innocent plant to blossom those momentary flowers you come to visit and dismiss swiftly. But know this; You too will lay motionless upon me one day only to be absorbed into the manure for the same seed to grow. We are not the same butterfly. We never were. I know my purpose, and place. Do you ?