Butterflies Danced

Flicking through a notebook I found a poem I wrote on the spur of a moment a few months ago.  I don't often write poetry, and actually don't often read it. However, having experienced an uplifting walk and appreciating the butterflies at the top of the hill, it was my attempt to capture a little of that.

Butterflies Danced

Taut heart
Lonely morning
Melancholy creeping
Unarticulated longing
Time out needed.

And then...

Up the hill on a sunny day
Trees working their magic
Body reacting, breath rushing, blood pumping
Heart rate rising
Heavy heart lightening

Reaching the top
A peak with a view
Sky so, so blue.

I missed you.

But the butterflies danced.
Fluttering, chasing, captivating.
The moment would have happened
Whether or not I was there.
But I was there
You were not, but a piece of you was with me.

The butterflies danced.
Unwittingly soothing a soul.

I don't think I took any photos on that particular walk - but the hill was Johnston Hill. The butterflies were probably not white admirals as pictured, but this photo was taken in our garden recently and also raised a smile.