Butterflies

(my mind hath looked upon the speaking face of earth and heaven as her prime teacher......[Wordsworth]) I saw two butterflies wrapped in silent passion, Her heart-shaped wings splayed flat against the sill Her torso throbbing in anticipation... Himself, hovering gently to hold her still. I saw their sleek brown bodies tightly pressed, His feet clinging to her lest the wind Tear him away. I saw the shadows rest Around them and the midday sun descend, And still they lay outside my window pane... I wondered why it is that we must rush And why my timid touches are but vain And useless gestures, why he must always crush The urgings. Nature’s children seem to know That love is best when cherished soft and slow