Butterflies

Butterflies

And then... love came again.
Stealing in from behind like a soft breeze on a mild spring day. At first a smile formed on her lips and then a name came to mind.The joy it brought surprised her and made her giggle like a school girl.She stood among the willows at the edge of the glade staring at the butterflies dancing over the corpse of a mouse by the ponds edge half buried in mud.

Butterflies she thought. Like love beautiful to behold but full of unseen nastiness. I will never love again. But, his name , his time, his face make me happy, could it be?

Other faces rose up to haunt her, faithless. hurtful names, the branding irons of the past and she wept. The butterflies eating urine and feasting on the corpses of the dead.

I will never love again.

Love came creeping on silvered and silent feet and touched her cheek; she turned away to stare at the sky so blue above. Love touched her eyes and she closed them to listened to the sounds of life surrounding her. Love whispered his name in her ear echoing through the corridors of her mind. She turned into herself and refused to hear. Love wrapped itself around her and forced her to feel it, to share, to know it was there and it's power growing upon her.

Love is life's ruin she thinks. Love is butterflies.

I cannot love again. I will not.

As day lengthened into shadow, so did despair give way to acceptance that once more love had come again.

She watched the sun set, so beautiful this day it made her heart light for the first time in a long time.
I am in love. Love.

She smiled a sad little smile and waded into the pond, the deep dark pond and kissed love goodbye.

Love is a butterfly.