Saturday, May 16, 2009

Butterflies

There are butterflies in my stomach. They've been there for days, flying through the anger, the sorrow, the bitterness.

Their wings softly, gently, patiently flutter, dissipating the clouds, making room for...something...something else...perhaps beautiful.

There are butterflies in my chest. They've been there for days, gliding through the cold, unconcerned with anything but their own brilliance.

Their wings softly, gently, patiently flutter, frightening away the loneliness birds that perch on my withered, stone heart.

There are butterflies in my head. They've been there for days, painting the grey into something more to their liking.

Their wings softly, gently, patiently flutter, brushing away the cobwebs, airing out the stillness, opening doors long closed.

The butterflies dance...

1 comment:

Cygnus MacLlyr said...

Oh, to be the worm, cocooning...