Deep in the soul,
  where butterflies harbor grief
straight from the heart hence poppies cry
   lies the spirit of all those loved.    lost
broken wings of decayed flowers
   ashes to dust within the mind's spirit

Tears flow through the abysmal depths
    drowning amidst sorrow of yesterdays
where the grass remained splendor
   and the uncaged birds still sang
reminiscing  clear waters of recollection
    in the equinox of dark moons
stirs the discontent of seasons change
     after the ice of winter thaws
         there will always be warmth

In this whirling disarray of thoughts
   wind sweeps the dying leaves away
when autumn's tears are lifted
    from their murky depths, reborn    
to play amongst the new day's sigh
   we never forget the fluttering of loss
we grant their wings to vibrancy yet again
   deep from within a sacred place,
          where reverie's paradise rekindles
              and butterflies never die...