She had this wild elegance,
like a butterfly
that tended to dance
too closely
A butterfly some might appreciate
for a moment,
and then forget,
never to remember her again
never to remember
her grace
nor her courage
But I would like to know her.
I envy her.
how did she come to be so fearless?
does she not know the cruelty that hides
within the worn folds of our palms?
does she know of her delicacy?
"I am delicate," she would tell me,
"To you, I am but a fragile beauty...
But do you know of the vast lands I have crossed?
That in midst of my adventures
I have learned loss.
I have learned that life has no pause.
But despite these inevitable terrors of life,
there is life to live.
so what good is fear,
but mere weight to the wings
that God gave me to fly?"
- butterfly
YOU ARE READING
Letters to the Old Soul
PoetryThis book was written for the girl with an old soul. my journal full of memories and stories; These poems are honest and true of the wonders and scary things that occur in life as one grows older. These are the documents that illustrate the evolutio...
