He swoops in close enough to catch my attention.
Beautiful, colorful, wonderful.
I reach for him but he spins and turns.
Just past my reach, just outside my range.
A second attempt to gently grasp a wing fails.
I watch, I hope.
He comes near and teases.
I coax him with kind words.
Please, please light here a while.
But he cannot be captured in a net of language.
Without warning, he brushes my cheek.
A moment of magic.
And then he is off.
My elusive creature floats away to a world only he knows.
But I still watch. I still hope.
I wait for that conversation with a butterfly.
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oooohhhh very deep, but describes Zach perfectly. I too long to be in his world. It is way better than ours! for some reason it will only let me post as anonymous! fine I will put my name here, ha! Chantel
ReplyDeleteBeautiful nod to the majesty of hope and the power of conversation. Love the metaphor.
ReplyDeleteThere is something about your writing that really stirs me, Christina.
ReplyDelete~ Wendy
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ReplyDeleteDebbie says.....
ReplyDeleteI've seen you and this butterfly in your kitchen interacting the most....love how you relate your experiences....great metaphor Christina!
anonymous sister- he is my beautiful butterfly, I will hold him captive for as long as possible but I know I'll have to share him one day
ReplyDeleteAidan- "majesty of hope" Wish I would have thought of that.
Wendy- Your comment made me cry.
Debbie- Mr. Monarch and I have lots of interaction in the kitchen, near the food, near the baking cookies.