Brought to Bloom

My dancing butterfly
with woodland eyes,
starlit wings, starlit,
scarlet tipped and dripping
sun-strung songs
and tunes of dusking skies,
of dawnings
raised upon the hills and tipping,
spilling auburned mirth
with sweetest sobs of sapphire.

Butterfly,
gently dance
you red rose,
winged upon the crest of winds,
of zephyrs calmly cast-
caught amidst their folds, caught
but neither trapped nor held
nor will denied, defied,
or held against.

In perfect flight
your pedals fast unfold
in quickened leaps,
and loosed
you cast your song, your lure
and skyward pull the lagging sun,
the stacks of satin clouds,
alight
with chorused blackbirds teeming,
all, and upward pulling lastly,
me;

my stormy eyes of late recede,
their sheets of rain retreating.
Dark my recent dreams
have now to dawnings taken root,
and rooted reach
to deepest depths and tightly hold
to silent stand
beneath the welcome morning-

Stand
where long at last
my butterfly,
sunlit, scarlet,
ever now can feel
my reaching arms
and dance within their mirth
she singing brought to bloom.