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The Butterfly

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Can you see it?

I really couldn't. I just wish the taste of the past and the sense of now would stop.

How can you not? It's right there, fluttering by.

Even if I could see it, no one would believe me. They would laugh and call me out.

Look! It's right there! Grab it!

Why am I the only one who can't see it? Why can't I just reach out, feel it, and take it in?

You're gonna miss it! Hurry!

I sensed it, I felt it, and even though I couldn't see it, I went for it. I got my little jar, opened the lid, and caught it!

You missed! I guess it was just those bad eyes of yours.

I gazed into my little jar. Empty. There, I took a chance, but a chance too late.

Maybe next time?

Everytime I do tell the truth, no one believes me. Everytime I have a doubt, I still go with it. Everytime I take that chance, it's too little and too late. Whether it's a butterfly or something different, it still happens. I'm left to wonder. Maybe my jar was too little or too big? Maybe I reacted too fast or not with enough speed and grace? Maybe I was just lying to myself or having a dream?

There's another! Can you see it?




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