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Aaliyah Salia Dec 2019
There are times when we lose everything,
times when we feel as if the world is falling upon us,
there are also times when we just want to dive off a cliff,
and times when we just want to be away from a group of people and hide in a corner and cry.

But after those times,
there comes a beautiful miracle.
A miracle that will change our life,
our hearts open up like the wings of a butterfly,
and everything starts to look beautiful again.

We are whole again,
we are new, beautiful and we avoid all the negativity,
i thank God for those times because it's the most wonderful feeling,
to feel loved, honored and respected.

I know now that everyone has to have patience,
to see the bud bloom into a rose.
Miracles do happen
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Even the gracefully beautiful
Sonnet inspiring
Adult butterfly
Started out
As an awkward unruly
Eat you out of house and home
Kid caterpillar
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2019
A new blade of grass sprouts
among the snarl of weeds
—widow's weeds.
This mourning is young and soft.
Years will come
to make it old and brittle
—like wind against argil.
For now it's a tender creation,
open and pink.
Even the children
do not play as they once did
—no blowing big bubbles
or laughter filling the sky;
—no catching fun in a bottle
or chasing after the butterflies.
An infant shoot this is
—the fragile tendril of
what came before.
In the evening it bows its head,
screen of darkness
a consolation.
Daylight is far more dangerous,
for the cicatrix is stark, unguarded.
All alone it will linger
a naked residual,
a lament to the dagger, Quietus.
Ray Dunn Dec 2019
how does your tongue
flutter as does a butterfly;
silent and wind carving—
yet unmistakable on the skyline...
idk
J Hanover Dec 2019
Fluttering against the seas of change
The waves are crashing
In brighter shades so adorned
Upon the winds so drafting

After crawling to the wreckage
Silken remains wither
No need to stay in these salad days
The winds so gently whisper

The wax shines brightly
Can sense the need to crawl
So begins the many lives
Until the end of summer, really had it all.
A butterfly's life in reverse
Vi Nov 2019
'I', it baffles me this 'I'
I question 'I'
Am 'I' the question?
I witness 'I'
Am I the witness?

'I' is insatiable
On all fours
'I' is the caterpillar
In this metaphor

If I transform
Or if 'I' dies
Am 'I' still I?
Is the caterpillar also a butterfly?

'I' wish to transition
but to accomplish this mission
'I' must die
there is no I in butterfly
Undead Nomad Nov 2019
her image touched the water
like a butterfly fluttering
on the breadth of a breeze

subtle
gently melting into the rippled glass

and I look to the sky
searching for the source
of this reflection of beauty
Sing me not songs of stars,
Bring your ears to my breast,
You will hear the songs of my heart.
Not just of the moon and sun,
But those of the universe.

Bring me not flowers
Nor butterflies.
Exalt my presence
For you are rose — most pleasant
And you are my butterfly — more elegant.

Take me not to places worth milk and honey,
Take me to your heart
The deepest and calmest part
Let me rest there
Under its gracious sky
With you beside me,
Gazing at the inner beauty of you.
For no treasure is beyond there.

©ABDULMALIK JIBRIL
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