Adam Blatner

In 1965 Bob Lind wrote a song of this title. I always thought of this as a kind of poetic romance song, and it might be interpreted that way, but I heard it on my walk today as a hymn of Spirit to our mundane being:

You might wake up some mornin’
To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind;
And if you’re quick enough to rise
You’ll catch a fleeting glimpse of someone’s fading shadow.
Out on the new horizon,
You may see the floating motion of a distant pair of wings;
And if the sleep has left your ears
You might hear footsteps running through an open meadow.
(Chorus:)
Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you.
It’s only me pursuing somethin’ I’m not sure of.
Across my dreams with nets of wonder,
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love.

You might have heard my footsteps
Echo softly in the distance through the canyons of your mind.
I might have even called your name
As I ran searching after something to believe in.
You might have seen me runnin’
Through the long-abandoned ruins of the dreams you left behind;
If you remember something there
That glided past you followed close by heavy breathin’.
Chorus

I first heard this many years ago and the poetry was vaguely intriguing. Listening to it again, at age 77, living with a wonderful woman and deeply in love, I heard it anew as a whisper of the Becoming Everything personified, or one of my guardian angels and her intention. The bright elusive butterfly of love, as I think of it now, is the force of spirit trying to civilize humanity on its way from brute to something more noble.