My mum she always told me I was akin to
a butterfly
She described me as an electric blue that matched
my eyes
One that no one can miss or go unnoticed yet one
who flew
In a way that meant she was spotted and seen
never observed
Fleeting passive outgrown unlived her soul that soared in
spiralled loops
Never let her go they cried out as a child for she will only ever
run away
Each flinch of her wings each momentary rest she knew time only
chased her
So she flew escaped wandered endless continents with each breath
new life
But never forget the old proverb; all that is gold does not glitter
and essentially
Not all those who wander are lost
Because I am not lost, I just found my wings that were all at once clipped
when young.

© Sia Jane