Shade of the Butterflies

(Based on the prompt: When I was six, fine arts meant...)
butterflies delicately painted wings
spreading dust of color everywhere
as the wind eagerly licks
the colors into a painting of today

once the butterflies have shared their hues,
they fall to gray ashes on the earth
swept up inside a huge cloud
painting chaotic streaks of gray
tangled with splashes of yellow
for the perfect splash of intense hue
as it violently strikes the earth
bursting the life
into a fiery orange and red

blue raindrops tint, slow the fire to nothingness
leaving the once green earth
an oozing black wound
dim and dull yet not quite colorless
for the black of the ask is not a color of pain
it's the color of new beginning

fragments of colorful dust slowly fall
vivid, colorful, expressive
the black earth looks up
to see hundreds of butterflies flying overhead
gaily sprinkling a spectrum of colors
from their painted wings