The butterfly's song, I think, naturally follows the raindrops' message. I wrote a whimsical draft of what I think the butterflies would have to say to my young heroine. I haven't completed it, no--it is such a fanciful mix of ideas--but I still delight when I think that I am capable of such capricious thoughts.
When you slept, sweet one,
and dreamt of rainbows,
the sky faeries plotted to plunder
fay children, raindrops, spray paints,
seep into soil, nudge seeds awake
borrowed moonbeams, and fashioned
them into flowers and fell asleep in them
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