I’m in love with a butterfly,
A flying flower that forever eludes my grasp.
She’s the light of my life and the fire of my loins,
But I am the chasing shadow,
The smoke that proceeds but never precedes.
Like a handful of sand, she slips away with every tighter grasp.
Though her transient love is everything to me,
it’s anything but solid ground.
She’s the stardust of yesterday, today’s ghost,
and the dream of tomorrow.
Now I see her, now I don’t. Now I have her, now I don’t.
My darling Madame Butterfly is like a desert mirage,
A mirror image of what my mind plans for, my heart yearns for,
and my soul needs but will never have.
Like a child with a snowflake in hand I giggle with glee,
But when I open my hand, it is water only that I see.
Still, I will seek her day and night though it feels like Déjà vu,
For I am in love with this priceless butterfly, and her name is Time.