The Butterflies of My Life

The Butterflies of My Life

There have been many butterflies in my life. As a child I remember seeing them; never having the urge to follow or seek them but noticing them nonetheless.

There were the butterflies of my education. In grade school I learned of the miracle of their transformation and became fascinated by the inching forth of the hairy caterpiller; hardly able to imagine it could turn into something else.

There was the butterfly of my blossoming adulthood when it became the symbol of my own growth and transformation. Hoping in the miracle of what I could possibly become while holding on to the comforting idea that I would not always be stuck on the ground, inching slowly forth in my quest to set free what was inside.

There is the butterfly that hangs in the window of my apartment. Crystal prysms on her wings draw rays of sunshine transforming them and filling my world with rainbows, joy and the miracle of light. She was my 35th birthday gift. My spirit soars in her gift of color wonder.

There are the missing butterflies that were sought and never found as my friend and I noticed that they didn't come by anymore. We missed them and wondered where they had gone.

There are the time traveller butterflies that take me back to the memory of my friend and our quest for their presence. "There's one." I say to his memory...I wonder where he is today.

There are the butterflies of hushed quiet; the tranquility of air under weightless wing as I step into their hushed sanctuary. By the hundreds they move the air of peace inside me - a gentle floating stillness. They are the gentle butterflies of my quiet heart.

There is the butterfly of my garden who has flown his migration miles to rest on a flower near my working hands. I wonder about his journey and who he has met before me. I marvel at what he says to me of beauty, truth, universality, love, and adventure. I fear his flight needing a little longer to hear, to gather, to see all that he offers in his fleeting touch down. I am elated and saddened as he says good-bye with wave of bouncing wing. He's changed me.

There is the butterfly resting finally in the grass of my backyard speaking to me of truth. Even that which has become the symbol of rebirth, life, and freedom finds a day that it will fly no more. He has taught me. I have laid next to his lifeless form and accepted the day of my end peacefully. It is there ahead, as sure as I am here - we will meet someday, some moment, somewhere.

There is the butterfly that almost ran me over as I crossed a buisy intersection. Faster than any winged creature I was forced to jump out of the way or be hit! He is the butterfly of fear; the attacker on my journey. No different than a car, he was larger, more powerful, and a threat to my survival. He is the butterfly of comedy as fear departed with his iron winged strength. I jumped out of the way of a butterfly!

There have been many butterflies in my life and one remains - the butterfly of tomorrow. The one I hope to see, the one I anticipate will reveal it's quiet miracle in all it has yet to teach me.

I'll look for you sweet butterfly.