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Nocturnal Butterfly
Sitting on the window sill
to gaze out the window
watching the flutter of a
moth, so much a nocturnal
butterfly.
Indigo wings reflect with
the moons light, as the wind,
a silent song stirs music
in the heart as wings tantalize.
To press my fingers against
the glass and dream of the
freedom night shadows
offer.
Longing to dance wrapped
in silken blue, like a moth
tasting the air when all others
seem to be abed, oblivious.
Beautiful midnight creature,
so often taken for granted
as they flitter by like dream
givers with soft gentle touches
of velvet barely known.
Watching I desire to join
them, to be as they are,
how I feel a connection
to their mystery, so little
appreciated.
9:25 AM - 5/19/2006 -
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