My mom loved butterflies. And she loved this song.
You might wake up some morning
to the sound of something
moving past your window in the wind.
And if you’re quick enough to rise
you’ll catch the fleeting glimpse
of someone’s fading shadow.
Out on the new horizon,
you may see the floating motion
of the distant pair of wings;
and if the sleep has left your ears
you might hear footsteps
running through an open meadow.
Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you.
It’s only me pursuing something I’m not sure of
across my dreams with nets of wonder,
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love.
These pictures were taken recently through our bedroom window. Seeing a butterfly almost always reminds me of Mom. It’s a happy reminder.