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  • Melanie MacDonald

Garden

If I was a butterfly, I'd hope to live my life in that beautiful garden. All of the flowers that I could fly around and see. I wonder if it would still be magical to me. I'd be able to make other people smile as I spread my beautiful wings with their array of colors in a mesmerizing pattern. In that heaven of a garden, someone would look at me and think of a loved one long passed on.


As a butterfly, the flowers I'd touch would be equal in purpose to the goal of touching a person's soul. How can something so fragile make such a huge impact on one singular person? As I sit in the garden I know the answer is right in front of me. It's peaceful here. As if time has stopped and the garden opens up and envelops you for a little while. Time passes though and you have to go back to the real world.


In a perfect world, I'd stay sitting in that butterfly garden wishing I could stay. That no pain would come to me as I sit among all the different flowers and watch them grow. Maybe I'd be like a flower. A sunflower for instance. Butterflies and bees would visit me so I'd never be lonely. If I needed extra warmth I'd turn my face to the sun and feel the comfort of its rays wash over me.


Flowers also go through their hard times. They get destroyed in the wake of construction building new God complexes to the sky. In my little butterfly garden, there is no construction. The only sounds are the flapping of those beautiful wings and on some days the sound of a breeze flowing through.


I always wanted to be a butterfly or a flower. To achieve a dream of finally becoming one with nature and letting the problems of the human world fade away. Turns out flowers and butterflies have problems caused by the human world too. Problems that flapping wings can't escape.



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