Would you like to paint the butterflies?
A chat with Delirium
September 13, 2004
Brightly colored, tangled hair
Caught my eye from just a few feet away
And I turned to find a girl in ragged clothing
sitting in my chair
A distant look in her eyes, always moving,
In awe of her surroundings
and the morning bustle of the coffee shop.
I smiled at the look of her,
Her appearance in such disarray
But she took it as a greeting and waved in reply.
Grinning again, I reached for my coffee
And made my way to the door and out into the world
I started to whistle, but after a while
I noticed that the girl had followed me.
"Hi," she said, in a pleasant yet faraway voice
I stopped to ponder how her eyes twinkled as she spoke
"Twinkle's one of my favorite words," said the girl
As if she were reading my mind
"But sometimes I forget what it means."
I nodded, for I knew the feeling.
"It rhymes with sprinkle," she continued,
"do you think words do that on purpose?"
There wasn't much to say to that.
"Little girl, do you have a family?" came my response
"A great big one. We've been here for almost forever and we don't have ages, but I'm the youngest. I thought I had a little brother once, but it was really just a cabbage."
"That's a bit strange," I said. A cabbage?
"It sure was! It turned rotten, but my doggy ate it anyway.
By the way, have you seen my doggy?"
I told her no. Then I asked her for her name.
"You can call me Delirium.
Even though I used to have a different name."
"Delight." I'm not sure why I said that.
"No, I'm not Delight," said the girl nervously.
"She... she went away a long time ago,
and I'm not supposed to talk about her."
We walked in silence for a few moments.
Once she pointed out that the leaves of a certain oak tree
Looked purple in the growing light
I had never noticed that tree before.
Then she grabbed me by the arm and asked,
"Would you like to help me paint the butterflies?"
I shook my head. I couldn't see any butterflies.
"Suit yourself," she said.
Her manner was so simple,
It was comforting in a way I had never felt before
She even taught me how to follow the fishies
That swim and hide in her mind.
I liked this girl.
We kept on going, until we reached my street
I turned to wave goodbye, but she was gone.
Sometimes Death likes to visit
She knocks on my door and we have a cup of tea
And discuss whatever we please.
Even Dream will come,
Every once in a while when the darkness is right
He'll sit on my trampoline
He likes to feed the pigeons while I talk about
forgotten dreams.
But I've never seen Delirium
Since that day back in July,
When we talked about cabbages and why words rhyme.
But sometimes upon waking,
While I see the sunrise and the tints of purple
At the corner of my eye,
I like to think she's there.
And I've started to see the butterflies.
