The pimpled butterfly i echoed. it traveled miles and miles far away that my memory was led to rest. I had watched it fly around my window every morning, every night dancing through the sound of my melodious whistles.  It would ease the pain to forget- I said, for it would never return. This Freedom was a choice it made, to conquer the world.

The taxi man smiled at me, his eyes bulging out from the cone shaped mirror as he tried to look at what he had carried. The car still in motion. like sarcasm to an overgrown folly his ears had been condition to, he whispered slowly, nice story lad and so what happen to the butterfly?

Through thick and thin it flew. The rain drops of the Asian sky's would leave tiny spot on its wings, but it still looked beautiful. on the in and out, Wherever it went, It looked beautiful even now in my memory.

On this journey It would drink through peaceful stream of mountain tops, fresh that it kept it soul alive till advent. Finally It was home. Home where the green would meet the sea. Home where the crickets of the night sang beautiful songs through dusk.

I closed my eyes and the memory of music, of dance, of words spoken through departure came to light. When I open them to speak, he had stop the car, turning his face and looking at me in disbelieve, like this unknown passenger had turn into something else. Trans might be the word. I looked at him and continued.

Once upon a time I knew this butterfly. when it flew free in my very before, that it spread joy and sweetness like a honeycomb- that taste so sweet my imagination could burst in tears. But how it flew away that day, that I only dreamt, and hope.

What's the point, it's just a butterfly.

Well if you must know, there are candles in this world that do not need extinguishing. For the wax that falls from their frame, like tears that binds the wounds of others. Like this butterfly the world seas the light and relax the pain of life. The world feels the tear drops and receives healing. That's why it journeys.  

Ok..

Yes this butterfly may be on its way, might be on a journey but I have come to realize it journeys for that reason. To heal. There's a butterfly In my thought that I keep. The memory of its colors that spreads upon its feathers resides in the depth of my heart - for even this is a healing to my soul. I will wait, for I cherish this healing it pours to the world.

He opens the door of the taxi like a gentleman to a lady and tells me to my face.. Listen dude I don't know where your going or what your up to but this is where your journey ends. Take another taxi, you don't need to pay me. You are just too weird.  

The taxi was just two minutes away from my destination. All I had in my pocket was a hair band the shape of a butterfly