I was born
to be a catcher of butterflies.
Pass me my net
and I will show you
the joy
and the wonder
that lay sleeping
in your bones.
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Categories: Poetry
Tags: Friendship, Humanity, Imagination, Inspiration, Joy, Life, Life Purpose, Magic, Poetry, Soul, Spiritual journey, Writers
11 responses to “Butterfly Catcher”
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☺️🌸🦋🌈
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I have fond memories to catching butterflies with my siblings. The thrill of gently cupping a beautiful gem and feeling satiny soft wings against my skin. Dreaming of becoming a butterfly that could touch the sky. Enjoying those delightfully warm and carefree days. I’ll catch butterflies with you any day.
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Aww 💕That’s so beautiful, Kat. xx You’ve sparked a memory, actually. I used to have a little bug house I filled with grass, that always remained empty but for the grass. I’m not sure why. Maybe I never could find the bugs, maybe I didn’t want to because I was scared. But the magic of making a home for them felt beautiful to me, anyway. Maybe that was the first time I practiced being a mum! A mum of bugs. 😂☺️
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Yes, it does. ☺️ In truth, I’d rather put out my hand and let the butterfly land peacefully rather than put it through the trauma of having a net flung over it. The poor bugger would be scared sh*#tlsss. ☺️
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