eellem1
Life is made of the little things, live it well
- Reaction score
- 32
The weather perfect on this lovely spring day. Temperatures in the seventies and a slight breeze that brings the fragrance of the flowers my way, what a divine scent. The sun coming and going through the clouds, as if to play hide and seek with me.
The birds have come to sing their song just as the flowers have bloomed in all their lovely shapes and colors. No wonder the butterfly has come. It returns year after year with its large blue velvet like wings that seem to have a pair of eyes on them, just watching over the flowers as it enjoys the nectar.
As it sits a top the beautiful bright pink hibiscus flower I think you have come back again as you have the past year and the one before. Why return to see the flowers in bloom that only will die? The butterfly must know that time after time the flower will return just as it will return in time to enjoy the flowers sweet nectar.
As spring passes the butterfly leaves and the flowers die and now I wait as time goes by and the seasons change to see if the flowers and the butterfly will return. Am I waiting to come out of my cocoon, waiting to bloom? Are they the same flowers time after time, the same butterfly year after year? Am I like the flowers and the butterfly or am I the flowers and the butterfly?
The birds have come to sing their song just as the flowers have bloomed in all their lovely shapes and colors. No wonder the butterfly has come. It returns year after year with its large blue velvet like wings that seem to have a pair of eyes on them, just watching over the flowers as it enjoys the nectar.
As it sits a top the beautiful bright pink hibiscus flower I think you have come back again as you have the past year and the one before. Why return to see the flowers in bloom that only will die? The butterfly must know that time after time the flower will return just as it will return in time to enjoy the flowers sweet nectar.
As spring passes the butterfly leaves and the flowers die and now I wait as time goes by and the seasons change to see if the flowers and the butterfly will return. Am I waiting to come out of my cocoon, waiting to bloom? Are they the same flowers time after time, the same butterfly year after year? Am I like the flowers and the butterfly or am I the flowers and the butterfly?