The Butterfly.

The Butterfly.
_______________

In My Dreams I see this small boy
walking through an endless field of
monarch butterflies;..laughing joyously
and flapping his arms to mimic the motions
of their flight.
His eyes are bluer than the sky.
(his Smile is pure delight.)

"I want to be a butterfly!" he screams.
Running faster into the distance of an
unforeseen plain, where (seemingly at
his waving arms persistence) the landscape
seems to shift and change.

"Come back!" I yell. filled with a sense of dread
so intense it makes me cry. And (blinking
through tears) I am suddenly overwhelmed by
a brilliant light coming somewhere from the sky.
Then I open my eyes (gasping) to discover that
I am awake in my own room again.
(and at the foot of my bed sits a monarch butterfly.)

J.Stephen.H.

(because good things do not die. They only fly
to Better  fields.)