Reoccurring Butterfly Dream
I am surrounded by 100 butterflies, fluttering in a surreal dream, and I am lost in the country somewhere. Ninety-nine of the arthropods fly onward while the one draws close. I am befriended by this question mark butterfly and transforming an answer.
Though I wish it were so, I am not converted to a butterfly. I am an old river, turned woman of the water, and I'm on a raft. The country road has disappeared as well as the butterfly. I am destitute and alone, reaching for a disclosure. I hear an echo in my voice as I call out, "Is anybody there?"
"Time is relative." I hear the reply as I tumble like dice, rolling forward into an unknown future. My past is losing memory as old familiar faces fade. In a sudden change, I see the eyes of my elderly mother. Once again, she turns into a butterfly.