Look to the butterflies

A poem to my children there are many facets of death. Never stay in one part for too long keep moving eternally pausing for moments to learn, grow from the hidden gems from within each amazing facet.

 

 

 

To my beloved Children.

As my last breath escapes my lips,

I pull you close and tell you this.

I want my endless love to show.

I need a way to let you know,

so when spring has sprung

and new life has begun,

Look to the butterflies...

….I’ll be the blue one.

I’ll fly like the rest,

but I must confess

you’ll know I’m free,

it’s clear to see.

I’ll drift your way

like a ship to shore.

The once heavy burdens

are no more.

I’m light as a feather

and so care free.

I’m blue,

blue as your deep blue eyes.

My favorite color,

it’s no surprise.

When my last breath escapes my lips.

My heart no longer beats like this.

Please don’t cry,

when I die.

Look to the butterflies.

            

Reviews

[Rikkevi Rue]

Truth is subtle and simple most times. For indeed, when one "dies" really they only die in body, not in spirit and many creations (children for one) continue on into the future. I like your choice of representation since butterflies are somewhat etherial and reflective of spirituality. As light as air, as delicate as a whisper, as aesthetic as pure beauty...is pure thought (as independent from physicality and material things) not in fact just such a commodity?

You do these sentiments, which are as old as sentient men, justice by steering your write to the side of simplicity, because after all the spirit (for all its ability to create and become things) is simple. As well that aspect lends itself to a wide pool of readers and a wide spectrum of philosophical moorings.

[Kimberly "Melody" Carney]

Your review is both kind and sincere. Thank you. I love the beauty that is found in simplicity, something found in all wisdom when one grasps understanding. Again, thank you for your understanding of what this poem holds.

[bob, small b. aka invs]

the aztecs believed that the souls of their lost warriors and dead children returned each year for a brief time in the form of butterflies to visit their families. i always think of that during butterfly season. you've expressed that same thought here very nicely and very personally.

[Poetic Beauty]

A sweet poem of looking after your children once your last breath has been taken on this earth. This is sentimental and comforting.

[myrto]

Beautiful use of the butterfly analogy to illustrate freedom and serene peace. Very touching.

[emmajoy]

Sweet sadness, a thought for every day held in a few sincerely set lines. There's something so beautiful, fragile, mystical as a butterfly .. its life span is brief but throughout that life it enchants in just being present until it flits from sight leaving an indelible print .. and that in istelf is curative. Wonderful, delicate .. sincere.

[Gomer LePoet]

A sweet and touching piece. Not many things can compare in beauty to the butterfly except for maybe angels. I like the meter of this and the choice of words.
:)

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

Oh my ...... what a beautiful poem ... Sad in a way , I hope that will happen when you 120 .... but yes , you left your children with a smile , with a hope .... your spirit will be free , like the blue butterfly