Like a butterfly

Like a butterfly

The butterfly hovering from one scented flower to the other, from one pretty color to the other, from one soft touch to the other, each is different in its own way, but all are touched by the hovering butterfly.

She is like a butterfly, I swear she is just like a butterfly. I gave birth today to a beautiful girl, and she is as beautiful as a butterfly. When I first heard her voice, her scream of life she gave out when she felt the gust of the cool air of the world for the very first time, it was the most beautiful song I have ever heard, so strong and so full of life, and so beautiful just like a butterfly.

Why can’t I be like a butterfly? My skin is wrinkled like the wavy lines of the dead desert, and my bones are bent like a submitted slave of the heartless time, my face is not my face anymore, and my body is a pain trip I am compelled to take. I hardly recognize myself in the lying mirror anymore. My past is full of regret and my future is promising nothing but the approaching end. Why weren’t we born old and ugly, and die young and beautiful, that way we have something to look for as we go through the cruel years and finally die with dignity. Why wasn’t I born an ugly worm and die like a butterfly?

I am flying like a butterfly!! I feel lighter than the air that the ground can’t hold. I proposed to her today, under the reddened sky of the dusk, when the clouds shied away from the beauty of the sinking sun behind the blue ocean, and only appeared as strips and ribbons of soft cottons that added more to the colors of the world, as if the sky was embraced by a butterfly. But everything faded away when she smiled, everything was overshadowed by the light of her eyes that seemed like a night early dawn, and every sound was hushed but the sound of my pounding heart, and the whisper of her yes. I will never touch the ground again; I will just float in the air like a butterfly.

She is like a butterfly that I will never touch. She is beautiful and graceful, and when she looks at me, I feel like my soul is dancing with the life in her eyes. But she never looks in me, or she would have felt the love screaming inside of me asking for hers back, asking for her to free him from shackles of despair. Here I am, cursed with a voice of love that will never be answered and will never be hushed, tears that will never be dry, and beauty that will never be touched…just like a butterfly.

Colorful like a butterfly. I can see the whole future folded out in front of me. I was touched by a moment of truth that scattered the darkness and replaced it with trust. There is nothing ahead of me that I can’t face, fear can't slow me down anymore; I finally have the moment that I will face time with, and color my future with it like a butterfly.

Deceiving like a butterfly. Trying to hide under wings of fancy colors, but in reality it is just a black and hideous insect. Flapping its wings so quickly, hoping that the haze of colors will deceive me and hide its true darkness, and I was indeed deceived. Never again will I trust, never again will I love, never again will I be deceived by the  dance of colors…Never again I will like a butterfly.

Life is like a butterfly, short lived and beautiful, simple and mysterious, filled with many colors and beautiful sensations, as well as the black and the painful ones. Starts as something, and ends as something entirely different, even if it is not a change to our liking, but that change defines it, that variety names it, and the butterfly continues its search for new scents, continues to feel one flower after the other, seeking diversity as limitless as its varied colors. We are life and we are the butterflies, one way or the other, through the diversity we will fly.