A woman, a butterfly …

To all women who dare to be a butterfly

Perhaps I am passing,
Perhaps, I am change herself
Offering the opening to all dreams…

Perhaps my being is nothing to do
With what I do
Perhaps all I needed to do
In life
Was to unveil my wings.
Renew my nature.

Am I a butterfly now
With the heart of a woman inside
The woman who has found
Her magical wings of love.

It is always
Through the fog,
That one could find
The white stream.

Perhaps with some courage
Take off her shoes,
Wash her feet
Rest her head to the rose tree,
Listen to silence
Allow to fall sleep…

She disappears inside of time’s cocoon
In absent
Waits for the new season to arrive
Perhaps no one believes
In the power of time,
The consistency of the desire
To walk without legs, to see without eyes,
To fly beyond her shape or design
To be who she really is.

It comes suddenly,
The storm that changes her design
And still stays faithful
To glowing origin of her essence
The sweetness
The innocence inside of her heart.

Yes, I must be a butterfly,
With the heart of a woman…

Any woman who dares to dream
Who dares to love
She must believe,
She can unveil her wings,
Be overwhelmed with love
And have many colours….
Be burnt by flames of love
And still give all she got.

Perhaps being
Is as simple as
A butterfly.

A woman
Who flies with wings of love
Never ends…

© Serena Devi, August 2010, Canada, Toronto

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