I must go where the butterflies play,
Their swirling flight leads me onward,
Snared by the sight I cannot look away,
Their beauty demands I look skyward.
They flash yellow, and white, and lace-wing tan;
Autumn-leaf-hued monarchs beautifully prance
Through the air, their ballroom, heedless of man
Or woman, below, who envies their dance.
Envies as much as admires, I say:
My infirmities make me jealous!
I'd abandon these legs for wings today,
My heart ever earthbound, rebellious!
'Till my spirit lifts free, drifting home to the sky,
I'll be wafted up now by a butterfly.
Sylvia Maltzman has been writing poetry, short stories, articles and skits since she was 16. Trained as an educator, Sylvia has a fervent desire to bring the Scriptures to life for everyone.
Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com
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