It started as a breeze,
Or maybe a gale.
Well, it’s one or the other,
But either way, it started.
So, this wind traveled North,
Passed the Appalachians –
Made its way over Atlantic waters,
And settled somewhere East.
It began as a bud,
And sprouted into infinity.
(You know,
Earthlings can’t wrap their head around “infinity”)
But that’s how it started,
And that’s how it grew.
It made me contemplate,
Over the chicken soup,
I was preparing for me and you –
It made me really think about life.
It was a thing with wings,
And it didn’t stop fluttering –
It gracefully flapped its iridescent wings
Over canyons,
Over fissures,
Over everything – dangerous.
It made me stop and ponder for a while,
It made you stop and wonder for a while.
The way this Butterfly can forcefully
Make its presence known.
It left an impact, wherever it’d go –
How can something so small, be so large in influence?
And that’s the funny thing about life:
It’s the improbable who inspire.
And for a while, after days would pass,
After weeks of cocooning my power.
I would often sit still,
Look at you leave the door, say “goodbye,”
And sit there,
And do absolutely nothing.
The way we can sit there,
And do absolutely nothing.
No glance at a phone,
No glance at a book.
Nothing.
So that’s the day I knew something had to change,
I opened up a dusty notebook underneath the shelf.
And I began to think,
And I really wanted to write.
But nothing came out,
So I looked out towards the window -
And I saw The Butterfly,
It would usually pass by on quiet days
And there it was, as if awaiting my presence.
But this time, it did something unusual.
It slowly laid it’s body onto the sill,
Curved into a C-shape and laid there on my windowsill.
I stood up from my chair,
And approached the Butterfly.
It wasn’t moving and sat there so strangely -
That was when I made out – it was dead.
I was astonished,
I couldn’t quite make out how this had happened.
I opened the window and carefully
Cupped the Butterfly into my hands –
A powerful force,
A fearless flyer - had made my window a grave.
You know, butterflies only live for about 2 weeks –
And it hit me.
I HAD to write.
I opened up the notebook and I wrote and I wrote –
The ink smearing on sheet,
Transcended thoughts I’ve hidden for so long.
I was never more alive than that moment –
And the butterfly’s body lay there, watching in unconscious splendor –
As I wrote my heart onto an old white page,
Saying everything - from nothing –
The hours accumulated and cocooned,
As my metamorphosis began to bloom!
And that was when you rang the doorbell,
And it was about noon.
And you began to read my writings,
And stood there – speechless –
That was the day we both found out –
The Butterfly was Poetry!
- Author: Rocky Lagou ( Offline)
- Published: March 1st, 2022 12:02
- Comment from author about the poem: Hi Hi Hi!!! I feel so good right now it's actually strange. I feel that there's too much chaos going on and I just wanted to WRITE! I ended up making a short story and I hope you all enjoy. It's slightly spiritual and deals with our inspirations for poetry. It touches on that time when we first find out writing is our calling. It touches on life and the world's influences. I hope you enjoy! ๐ฆโ
- Category: Short story
- Views: 49
- Users favorite of this poem: theneophiles_words
Comments10
Hello rocky .. I love this .. I never used to write at all ., but I feel like i canโt help but want to write sometimes , as if itโs just who I am and part of me
This is engaging to read .. sad that the butterfly passed away ., how it inspired one to write .. sometimes we end up changing from that caterpillar into a butterfly .. or atleast into more freedom and I guess we can have that with writing .. a sense of freedom
I like your story ! ๐ I once saw a butterfly on the ground struggling and it made me feel sad
Hi! Thanks so much for your kind and caring words! I'm like that as well, sometimes I'm just driven to write poetry. Also, the butterfly's eventual passing, although sad, is supposed to represent something more profound. It's supposed to represent the Inspiration that passed on from the butterfly to the speaker. It also represents that sometimes sacrifice is required in order to reach a state of happiness. So yeah it's sad that this gracious butterfly dies, but the effect that the butterfly left was impactful. Writing is Freedom. Thanks for your encouraging words! ๐๐ฆ
The butterfly certainly was inspiring ! Yes , I understood your writing . Yes , I can certainly find freedom in writing ! Something I donโt always feel inside myself or in my life .. so I guess writing can help and I can feel confident when I write
Blooming writer and blooming butterfly, uncanny yet so similar.
Good one Rocky Lagou !
Wow thank you so much! I really really appreciate your comment! I try to write from the heart and it's so motivating to see you felt the poem! The Butterfly is symbolic for not only poetry but also the inspiration that drives us to write poetry; it's the motivation that moves us. Thank you again! Have a wonderful day! ๐ฆโจ
A fine write Rocky.
Yes, the day I began poetry - a fine day!
The day I began singing - a day of doom for all! (heehee).
Well, they all think it's two cats fighting.
Heheh! Oh this was hilarious! It's fine, we all have our own callings! You write beautiful poetry though, and I'm sure your singing isn't THAT bad ๐ . Anyways, sincere thanks for stopping by and I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed the poem! ๐ฆ๐
Thanks Rocky. Oh, it's just a daft 'in-joke' on here - me singing! lol. Well, I started it off. Doh!
Quite a trip rather an odyssey, Interesting and with hidden meanings. Well done
Thank you so much! I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed the piece! I wanted to take you on a little journey through the imagery I painted in the poem and I'm so happy you saw my vision. The meanings are also multi-interpretive, so it's more than just the literal meaning. Thanks for your encouraging comment! Have a great day! ๐โฎ
I ain't no butterfly. I'm cooped up here in this cocoon thingy. I will only spread my wings when I sing proper.
"Ohh, it will be never, then!!" Aww, they are horrible to me, saying that. But I started it all off, saying I'm the world's worst singer.
They are gonna report me for insulting cats, cos they say 'It's much worse than two cats fighting'. Doh!
Oh, it's all nutty! hehehehe.
Oh Orchidee you never fail to give me a good chuckle. Thanks for stopping by! Really appreciate your consideration! Have a great day! ๐ฆ๐๐
I really enjoyed your poem. What you say is very real. Thank you Rocky.
Thank U Rozina! I really appreciate your feedback and I'm delighted to hear you enjoyed the poem! I hope you have a splendid day! ๐ฆ๐
As I read your poem my head is reeling and my mind is saying "Yes, yes, oh my goodness Yes". When a transformative moment, such as you describe hits you it is cause to rejoice. Beautifully written. Thank you!
Wow Bella this is so flattering to hear! I literally wrote this poem with such a strong motivation and drive and all I wanted was the readers to feel my purpose of writing this piece, and to see you felt that emotion, is so rewarding beyond words. I mean, thank you, truly for feeling this poem and taking time from your day to read and digest it. This poem is all about evolution of Self and a new sense of enlightenment. Thanks once again and may you have a wonderful day! ๐โจ๐ฆ
the line "it was a thing with wings" made me think of "hope is the thing with feathers" by Emily. is that allusion on purpose? I love how something so small and delightful as a butterfly represents poetry for you. and poetry is very much like hope!
OMGGGG!!!! Someone actually found my inspiration for the poem! ๐ ๐ โจโจ๐๐ I literally laud you right now! You are so smart and I'm so happy you analyzed the poem enough to find that allusion. I literally wrote this poem with that poem in the back of my head and I was actually thinking of titling the poem, "Hope is the thing with wings," as a way to honor one of my muses and play a little with her own works. You are correct! Thanks and have a wonderful day! Poetry is a Butterfly! ๐๐ฆ
what an inspired and otherwise inspirational poem you have crafted and laid before us my friend .. and what a gift of light and powdered wings .................. Neville
Thank you kindly for your encouraging words! This poem is a message to let your inspiration free and wild and to allow yourself to express your feelings through mediums undefined! Hope is the thing with WINGS!
A nice write.
Thanks so much for checking out The Butterfly was Poetry! Our works and our inspirations can come from so many diverse areas of life and I wanted to showcase that first enlightenment of poetry! So thanks for appreciating it! Have a great day! ๐
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