Butterfly Sublime

She comes in startling waves,
like the urge to be kind

I wait for
whatever follows

She stays with me; the melody
that finds a voice in all things
and reason to repeat itself

I listen for
whatever may be crying

She floats in knowing circles
and drunken arches; draped in regrets
surrounded by children and debt

I mourn for
whatever may be flying

broken and transparent
unsure why things happen
until the net arrives