like butterflies
cassia
Posts: 277
LIKE BUTTERFLIES
When I pick you up at the airport
your voice is tinged with sadness.
Butterflies, you say, only live
for two weeks.
Two weeks--you're bummed
that something so fantastically
beautiful
could vanish from this earth
so suddenly.
Outside the lavafields in Oregon
baby monarchs swarm the highway,
heartbreakingly
dashing into windshields and bumpers,
as they test erratic wings.
And somewhere tropical, an exquisite
purple hair-streaked thecla
lands on a giant leaf
for the very last time, wingtips
exhausted yet still tufted
as a violet lynx.
Like angels and Icarus,
the Blind Melon boy, himself a butterfly,
and keeper of our bee-girl joy,
couldn't keep his cheeks dry that day,
flying too close to the sun
of his unbelievable pain.
Later that week, I find a card
magically painted with a lion
surrounded by blue butterflies.
I recall listening to Eddie in Italy,
telling the crowd in his velvety roar
how we made him feel like a lion.
How when he sings
"hearts and thoughts they fade away"
we cling to what remains, the raw
reverberations of twilight tipped
to the color of wings.
When I pick you up at the airport
your voice is tinged with sadness.
Butterflies, you say, only live
for two weeks.
Two weeks--you're bummed
that something so fantastically
beautiful
could vanish from this earth
so suddenly.
Outside the lavafields in Oregon
baby monarchs swarm the highway,
heartbreakingly
dashing into windshields and bumpers,
as they test erratic wings.
And somewhere tropical, an exquisite
purple hair-streaked thecla
lands on a giant leaf
for the very last time, wingtips
exhausted yet still tufted
as a violet lynx.
Like angels and Icarus,
the Blind Melon boy, himself a butterfly,
and keeper of our bee-girl joy,
couldn't keep his cheeks dry that day,
flying too close to the sun
of his unbelievable pain.
Later that week, I find a card
magically painted with a lion
surrounded by blue butterflies.
I recall listening to Eddie in Italy,
telling the crowd in his velvety roar
how we made him feel like a lion.
How when he sings
"hearts and thoughts they fade away"
we cling to what remains, the raw
reverberations of twilight tipped
to the color of wings.
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
I think the topics you explored, intermingled while separate, are brought together in a sort of continuum that makes it a little more unique in my readings.
Well done.
beauty
I wasn't expecting it to end with Eddie in Italy, but I'm glad it did.
as we listen to eddie roar....
transforamtion from alone
to oneness..
the fireshivers of becoming
our joint-solitude
the
combined being we make in the sun
as we transmute
from all alone
to
all one
*
peace~
when dah girls are in heat
each lioness can take like five guys
and the girls sometimes don't sleep
for like three days...
and every fifteen minutes whoa
talk 'bout cat scratch fevah
so don't think there's any
dreamy-eyed romanticism, there
besides, the male big cats
have barbed...
you know....
ahhhhhh.
sigh
Dear cassia.
I love butterflies...
thank you for sharing cassia
and in its contradiction of response,
Or seeming stagnance, see that rippled gleam
That might suggest true movement. If you sense
a hidden wave in what seems blanket still,
Write more, wind each desire, and you'll see
The willows nod and rustle, and you will
hear the rushing babble of the free
gush of water, brimming, charged with light
That is your reader's understanding heart.
She's a California girl really, near Pasadena way..