The butterfly danced with the sailor for a brief, eternal season. He cherished her…the strong, delicate, luminously beautiful butterfly…but not nearly as much as he should have (ever and always the fool he.)
The sailor tried to keep her close while, fear and foolishness ever his dour companions, also keeping her at arm’s length…he watched her shimmering soft and blue, a sailor on celestial wing, in the bright sun of sweet summer and the sparkling stars of quiet autumn.
The butterfly danced, leaving kisses and perfume on his cheeks, and waited as patiently as she could. And then, of course, she couldn’t wait any longer…time passed by, seas led to other, more golden shores…and she flew away…leaving music in her wake and sad sweet light in his heart.
He was sad and happy when she found a place that truly cherished her…sad and happy when the butterfly nestled into the garden she always deserved…sad and happy that she was with many even though none of them were him.
And the sailor whispered…on the wandering wind…”I loved you more than I ever said.”
And the sailor whispered…on the wayward wind…”I’m so happy that you’re safe and happy.”
And the sailor whispered…on the wondrous, wondering wind…”Please forgive my coward’s heart. Please forgive me for not cherishing you as much I should have.”
And the sailor whispered…on the wafting, whispering wind…and prayed that the butterfly, dancing contentedly in her garden, heard…and knew…and sometimes, just sometimes, saved a fond prayer for him.
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