Swallow Tail
Velvet butterflies brushing their gossamer wings,
tremulous fluttering's inside my soul,
lifting from the hearth to the whole.
I feel them rise from the pit,
swirling through incandescent skies,
filling my heart with the warmth of your breath,
slipping like silk ribbons caught in a breeze,
the gentle ease, of all you have become to me.
Tickling sensations,
these trembling emanations of light,
surging through these rice paper gates,
erupting upon my face with a smile.
A brilliant star, in joyous release.
I sat in blue corners once,
masked in the mourning of some mottled solemnity,
wondering what it was that you might have been to me,
seeking that which was before my unsighted eyes,
before my heart, the chase inside,
blind to its light, in the depths of its hide.
To cease the search, and in being, simply love.
To curtail the endless courtship, the chase,
the hunt from above, and in risen heart,
watch the doe bound within the open meadow,
free from her forest retreat,
the supple greeting of each loving gracious fellow,
the swallow tail swimming in the breeze,
kissed between the sunlight's balmy phlox,
and those distant oaken trees.
Love steals my heart, and floods the plain,
and on my tongue and in my ear, I hear
this gentle wind whispering your name.
The fluttering diaphanous flight,
of these butterflies of love,
caught between the chrysalis,
and your bless'd light, above.
© Richard Michael Parker 2012
