Butterflies

I was once an observer,

I watched nature, undisturbed.

Animals came and went - doing as they did,

Yet I sat there for hours to see the butterflies,

Tiny creatures that flew from the trees.

Every glimpse of them shot colors to my eye,

Blues, golds, and reds, they were like miniature rainbows. 

 

Soon I wanted to be a part of their dances,

Somehow put myself in the center of these rainbows.

Every day I perched still closer,

Closer and closer I went till closer no more I could go.

Many times I tried to become this dance of color,

Many times I did fail, too loud, too quick.

 

Then one day in May, I had it right,

For a brief moment I became a dancer.

The colors were more vibrant, and a peace overwhelmed me,

I was filled with determination to perfect it and become a dancer.

As the summer waned I felt as a dancer,

So I tried once more and crept close with the butterflies.

 

Then, I was a dancer,

The butterflies and I danced on and on.

Time soon became irrelevant,

I danced until the warm orange light faded behind the mountains.

As the butterflies left with the sun,

I sat, out of breath, but full of life.

 

I returned the next day expecting to dance once more,

The air was brisk, and I was a fool.

The storms of color I had practiced for disappeared,

Still I sat in my silence, hoping for their return.

The sky turned blue, to pink, to black, and no rainbows appeared,

The butterflies had left me behind and I was an observer once more.