Mr Edwick And The Butterfly
By: Maria Barros
Tags: Poet, Poetry Writing, Short Fiction, Dreams, Nature

Photo by Carolien van Oijen on Unsplash

Mr Edwick was

What many would call

Depressed,

Anxious,

Uncapable of dealing with the many complexities of life

And his own spirals

One day

While consuming his daily doses of despair and boredom

Mr Edwick read something about a butterfly

That caught his attention

Later on, coming back to this episode on his thoughts,

Mr Edwick was not sure if he read the article in a dream

Or in reality

But the words were clear in his head:

Butterfly Roxa

Uncommon species of butterfly that is capable of extraordinary things

Colour: it varies

Size: small, slightly smaller than an ordinary butterfly

Wings strength: can be compared to the strength of human hands

Paws: produce a liquid more sticky than the strongest glue

Special characteristic: this butterfly always shows a purple light on the right wing

After some thinking, Mr Edwick came to the following conclusions:

This was very powerful information,

Too powerful not to be real.

And from that moment, something changed in Mr Edwick's head

New thoughts, questions and possibilities

Started to unroll

Even, maybe, a plan

You see, Mr Edwick's imagination wasn't his strong point

But this was a very simple equation:

With the sticky liquid on the paws

And the abnormal strong wings

Could he be lifted

By a butterfly?

Let's note that it would be impossible for a butterfly alone to lift Mr Edwick

And Mr Edwick was well aware of that

But what if there were many of them?

Thousands of butterflies

Flapping on his back

And lifting him

High

Maybe all the way up to the sky?

Mr Edwick was astounded

He had to give it a try

Mr Edwick went to the forest

And walked for a long time

Until he found a little meadow

Surrounded by big trees

With green grass and a teeny lake

"If there's any place where I can find this butterfly,

It has to be here",

Mr Edwick thought.

He took his shirt off first

It was sunny, fresh sun,

Like the sun one finds in the morning forest

Then he took off his shoes

His grey socks

All his feet have known so far

Is walking

Step after step after step

That's what it has been like

For Mr Edwick's feet

Which makes me think that maybe he wanted to know

How it would be

To walk barefoot in the sky

Mr Edwick folded his clothes and placed them under a tree

It's funny, when we are alone in a new place

We tend to create these beautiful rituals

Almost sacred rituals

Like Mr Edwick did when he was folding the clothes

Perfectly

And when he carefully placed them under the warm tree



Then Mr Edwick lied down on the earth

Waiting

He felt his weight on his belly

On his legs

On the left cheek that was touching the ground

On his eyelids

On his shoulders that were somehow

Getting closer and closer to the ground

Every time he breathed out.

And when he breathed in

He felt his back opening

His lips slightly opening too, flourishing like a little lily

His eyelids becoming lighter

His fingers expanding on the grass

Waiting for the butterflies.

He felt the smell of the forest

And each smell inside the forest smell

The lake's water so bright

The moss on the borders

The tall trees, with infinite dancing leaves

The teeny flowers of many colours

The aunts and squirrels and deer inhabiting the forest

Somewhere the sun and the birds

The grass with dew

The warm earth

He felt that his nose have never invited so much air inside

So many sacred smells

To dwell his lungs

And Mr Edwick waited

Mr Edwick waited

I want to enhance that Mr Edwick waited

Mr Edwick waited

It's not fair to get into details about how long Mr Edwick waited

Because how can we accurately measure time

When Mr Edwick is lying like this

Living like this

Through every breath

Through each part of his body

With this outrageous amount of hope

Mr Edwick waited

Lying on his stomach

Back open to the sky,

But the butterflies didn't come

His eyes ended up closing

Forgetting the hope

But also the weight

And Mr Edwick rested

Why do I feel Mr Edwick flying on his sleep?

The best sleep can take one to beautiful places

Amongst the clouds of the subconscious

Sometimes there's a fresh lightness

A strong wind dancing above

And forgiving the whole world

A red petal that is forever red

A touch

That holds you in the air

Mr Edwick?

I'm certain, I see him flying

His body piercing the air

His feet touching the blue

Touching the sky

Mr Edwick wakes up

It is now night in the forest

He moves

Grasps the grass beneath his fingers

The smell is different

He changes position, lies on his back

The earth is still warm beneath Mr Edwick

But the night air is colder

His clothes still under the tree

And above the tree

Stars

Stars above all the trees, and the meadow, and the lake

Mr Edwick doesn't recall seeing so many stars ever in his life

There's a symphony at night in the forest

Cicadas, crickets, curupiras, owls

But for a moment, silence

Complete silence

And then a small sound

Almost inaudible

A precious sound

Getting closer to Mr Edwick ears

The distinct sound

Of two teeny wings

Flapping

In moon silver dances

Getting closer to Mr Edwick

A butterfly

Slowly

Getting closer

A purple light on the right wing

Up and down in the night

Wait, is this...?

Mr Edwick's heartbeat grows so fast

He believes in that moment with everything he is

The butterfly

The butterfly

Lands

On Mr Edwick's chest

Her paws

Embrace the loud heartbeat

Are one butterfly's wings strong enough to lift a heart?

Mr Edwick can answer that question

But he rather not talk about it.

I can tell you

That Mr Edwick

Was never the same.