Drowning sorrow

What is it but a drowning sorrow
as the sky weeps its release

What is it but a chilling fear
as winds scour the earth

What is it but silent heartbeats
as snowflakes settle one by one, by one

What is it but a waiting
an apprehension of thought
a waiting of age
soon to be lit

It is this
this very moment
when upon looking up
a butterfly in winter
shivers in its beautiful strength

shivers, and is gone

Love’s nightingales

Shadows do not diminish
when the sun’s bloom wilts
they merely fade into themselves
; chameleons of this butterfly world

White it shines
as it flits
landing almost
a kiss
almost an enchantment
upon solitude
upon memory

Songs, dreams and soft thoughts
these butterflies do not diminish
they are love’s nightingales
; a kind of paradise

Moonbeams
shine through
silent awakenings
to land, perhaps
upon a kiss
upon a
spark of magic
to whisper
… to paint

How is it you do not diminish
is it because your butterfly heart
echoes this fragile beat of mine
; glass, stained