The donkey and the butterfly

Once there was this donkey whose soul was nothing but rags and tatters. He knew all his weaknesses by name. He examined each evil thought, itemized every sin, and never forgot a time that he had brought sorrow to the doorstep of another. And so he went, on and on, making a heap of all his losses.
One day he met a butterfly
‘O butterfly!’, he said, ‘I cannot move this burden another millimetre!’
Then put it down
said the butterfly.
‘Then what else would I carry?’
The little creature tilted its wings:
Make a collection of all your joys
Count the miracles
In which you have been personally involved.
‘O butterfly!’, said the donkey, ‘How do you stay so cheerful?
You express your heart every day.
It is written on your wings!’
The butterfly flew up into the sky:
What is creation but an act of love?
And the donkey stood amazed
Examining the leaf
Where the butterfly once stood.