Fly, Fly, Butterfly: 

Into My Stomach You Go

January 13, 2024

This most recent phase of my life has been scattered with butterflies. They show up in the songs I write, the drawings I get from my students, on the key chains of new friends, in art sisters' paintings, and in the air. In this period of continuous change (metamorphosis, if you will), the butterflies are a representation of awakening and a feeling of uneasy free excitement. In this particular piece, butterflies are the feeling I get from a particular person. She is a fleeing feeling and a warm embrace. She gives me butterflies and makes me want to become one. 

Butterflies of  You

Graceful flutter, addicting nerves, color previously unseen.

I know I shouldn't see them, but I can't help that you bring them out of me.

They feel like summer, 

how you feel.

Sunny warmth and easiness and an unknown lightness with orange speckles.

You grace the air you flutter through,

Hopping from flower to flower as if they are the memories we share

Letting the wind determine your direction content in the unknowing.

You winds know the direction of the journey

I secretly hope the wind will direct them back to me

To the feeling in my insides.

But the butterflies are just within me. 

They do not see the light of day.

When all is said and done, you aren't the beautiful, nervous creatures.

But rather, you are the sun. 

Let me sit in your warmth.