Whispering Melodies

I had a dream last night. Day was slowing fading to night and my eyes deepening in sleep. I woke up and it was dark. I woke up in a large house with plenty of people. The creatures would be coming soon. We needed to lock the doors and board up the windows. Everyone was preparing for what was to come. Some people gathered together in one room. Some upstairs, some downstairs. Some alone in dark hiding spots. I looked for a place of my own. I heard a piano playing, playing like it was the last song of our lives. It wasn't melancholy or sad, but not terribly up beat. It was a simple and deep melody that everyone could feel. I followed my ears to a man sitting at a table full of flowers. The man had delicate thin metal instruments attached to the ends of each of his fingers. He stroked the petals, and was able to capture the song within the flower. It no longer sounded like a piano, it sounded like the supple voice of a singing heart. The notes long and gentle. Delicate and tranquil. Each note flowed into the next. And though the people carried on with movements and their objectives, there was a whispering melody entering their hearts.

The Azul Sky in a Beautiful Butterfly

One day a little girl sat along a hillside rolling in the grass and gazing at the skies. She saw a flutter in the air through the corner of her eye. A butterfly floating her way, bright azul wings like the sky she gazed at. Now floating upon the wings of this fluttering butterfly. Closer and closer swarming around her. The young girl reached out. The butterfly just escaping her grasp. Again reaching out, then chasing, running, diving, sprinting after the beautiful butterfly. Across the fields, into the forest, across a river, over a hill chasing chasing chasing far from home, panting without breath... Finally the butterfly settled upon a log atop the hill. The little girls eyes glistened with excitement. Slowly she crept to the resting butterfly. Step by step dreaming of capturing such a wonderful sight. She leaped, her hands stretched and reaching and clasped her hands together. She felt a slight flutter tickling her palms. She caught it! It was her's! She ran home, the beat of the wings becoming slower with every step she took. She dropped it in a box. The beautiful azul butterfly lay there still, unmoving. Every morning the girl looked at her beautiful butterfly. But with everyday she noticed the colors fading. The wings now brown and grey disentergrating to dust....A tear fell from the little girl's sky azul eyes.