Wanderings

From flower to flower, fluttering,
  never ending, rising and falling.
Continuing on in a rhythm all it's own,
  stopping just long enough.
Never for long, food, pollen, lightness,
  just an image of busy and no rest.
Beauty though in living out it's only
  short life, there is purpose.
One mark, one going on, for the next
  precious life to come.