Flight of the Butterfly
by Nick
Maddix 6-12-2004 @ 4:11 A.M.
***
Soaring through the air with no limitations intact
Its majestic colors blossom into a vivid painting
The entire world is its backyard of autonomy
It could hardly hope to contain it all, but it doesn’t need to,
Nor does the desire even become visible to others
Peaceful and sincere, it has no real foes
Except perhaps those that wish to bring it harm
Our simple existence threatens its way of life
The beauty of
flight is at its command
Its flight can be jagged though
Just like a person’s heart at suspenseful moments
Look into its curious eyes
And feel all your troubles fly away to the clouds
Or stay on the ground and craft new ones
Love is like a gorgeous butterfly
The passion it carries can make one soar to unforeseen heights
And why on earth would you want to come down from its climax
Dream a dream and never perceive things the same again
Such is its indescribable nature
Such as love, the butterfly needs a helping hand too
It too was once a small thing that had bring dreams of its own
It worked hard for itself and rewarded its efforts with flight
Love always takes time and effort to ascend, it cannot be done as if by magic
The view up high comes different for everyone
Some may find it pleasing
While for others detestable
But it’s not the view that is the deciding factor
It’s the experience from the first to the last
Do you want to be my butterfly?
Lifting me up
into the depths of the heavens?
Charting into unfamiliar territories, establishing a bond of devotion?
Our hearts soaring together as one
An adventure that alone is worth the price of admission
No matter how
long it’s presence may truly last
When it finally must come down, it’s cycle ending
The will remains for all others to follow
Sometime things can’t be explained
And the task of knowing can be an adventure of its own
But in our hearts, we know these things
Passion soars to new heights day by day
It has no limitations on how high it can ascend to
And like the journey of a butterfly, outside events can change it’s course
Willing or unwilling, sometimes a decision can’t come to pass
But that’s half the journey itself
Fly to your heart’s content little butterfly