Butterfly Wings

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First of June,
a busy mosaic floor;
pass winter’s twilight
disguise, unseen muster
seed sleeping till warmth
of spring awakes it
and calls in quiet voice
we harbor talents unused
a patchwork undone.

So vibrant hectic earth…
a medley of brittle leaf
carefully intertwined in
hairs of new birthed grass.
A tortoise-shell butterfly
sipping sweet nectar
from powdery weed;
brilliant yellow bloom.
Beneath buried seeds
housed in shells
deep under the soil.

Pull past the debris,
carefully separate
each tender blade.
Listen to butterfly wings,
once an egg,
now vibrant with color
towers on high
with bird and plane
journeys to tropical
climates where seeds
do grow from rubble.

What seeds of
hope, faith, charity
lie dormant in a life.
What montage of
talents sleep beneath
spring’s warming earth:
an artist, a poet, or musician
waiting, as the mustard seed
or butterfly, to soar
then stretch and grow.

 

Today I’ll be helping out over at dVerse with the prompt Microworld Poetry; we’ll stop and look intently at something small nature has to offer us. Doors open at 3PM EST; check in on what’s happening around the world!

 

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17 thoughts on “Butterfly Wings

  1. I like the complementary analogies of the seed and the tiny caterpillar. Both grow into something very different and grander than what they start out as. And it is so with us as well. Peace, Linda

  2. I love this poem very much, Patti – what a wonderful prompt this is! Some very beautiful responses as we fasten our sights on the small, and thus expand our vision to the larger world.

  3. Butterfly wings symbolize several things…all pleasant, of course. The name of the dog escapes me now, but a friend wrote of her dog with “butterfly wings” as ears.

  4. This is so lovely–I appreciate how you incorporate faith and dormant talents. Thanks for letting us have the option of using one of your photos–it really worked for me.

  5. I like that encouragement to listen to butterfly wings…so small, so silent, and yet so beautiful, it certainly is worth it to pay even closer attention to the small and wonderful things of this world.

  6. Ah.. the sad tunes.. of a human cocoon.. wrapped in blankets so secure and warm.. never venturing
    to precipice of fear.. never finding imagination to grow.. a rose.. of butterfly wings.. so far
    as far does go.. in Creation Activity.. nectar of life awaits.. fear is
    cut off wings.. to arise.. in light from fear.. is to arrive alive now..
    with Butterfly Wings..:)

  7. listen to the butterfly wings….mosaic floor – such loving details in this given to us by one who knows and loves such details. the last stanza – oh how it made me want to soar like a butterfly over the mosaic floor.

  8. This fine bunch of stanzas becomes “Macro”poetic, because the lens of your witnessing zooms in beyond the range of a microscope; really enjoyed the journey. It feels very Zen, paralleling some of the philosophic Taoist meandering did over at my site. I like your lines, resonating with my state of mind /we harbor talents unused/a patchwork undone/.

  9. I find faith, hope and love more often in nature than I do in humanity. I guess that is our nature as well.
    The seeds are there though, I guess it is all in what we nurture.

    I am particularly fond of butterflies. Of their transformation. Becoming something else.

    We were at the lake (which is really no more than a large pond, imho) and there is a spot where every time we go the butterflies gather and when you walk by the all flutter up around you, then return.

  10. I admire the spring details Patti specially:

    So vibrant hectic earth…
    a medley of brittle leaf
    carefully intertwined in
    hairs of new birthed grass.
    A tortoise-shell butterfly
    sipping sweet nectar
    from powdery weed;
    brilliant yellow bloom.

    Did I tell you we have a cold spring over the weekend ~ I think all my flowers wilted a bit ~ Thanks for co-hosting this poetics ~

  11. The simple turns of phrase strike me as particularly effective in this poem:
    First of June,
    a busy mosaic floor
    or
    Listen to butterfly wings,
    once an egg,
    now vibrant with color
    These are the kind of lines that lead us in one direction, we think we know how they will end and then – bam! they surprise us.

  12. Whenever I hear butterfly wings a song comes in my head.. Bullet with butterfly wings by Smashing pumpkins.. I know it is unrelated to the serenity of your poem.. But it is still a darker backdrop for me to your poem. Lovely image, where I especially like the listening to butterflies. 😉

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