He Sang to Me

From deep inside, he sang to me,
a tiny voice, barely there.
The flutterings of butterfly wings
assure me of his existence.

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I knew I could not keep him
once he came into this world,
but I sang to him
and told him that I loved him.
I don't know where he lives now.
I don't know IF he lives,
but I keep his song forever in my heart,
and when I play it,
the butterflies return.

(note: This poem was copyrighted when I was married. I am since divorced and go by my maiden name "Hawkey.")