Papillon   Leave a comment

borboleta

Life stirred from shimmering pools of green,
Silver cocoons feeding slowly…
Inching towards the freedom of being,
Crawling in a struggling world to reach self-defined glory.

Wrapped up in throes of incapacitances,
Gifted by God, destiny, karma or fate…
In the end they’re all the same…
Indelible impressions on a man they make
Stumbling into a world so pristine,
He finds himself a worm in a continuum of molding
Inching in a long, eventful journey…
Towards a growth – slow for some, n for some so hasty.

There… a worm sees a golden glow…
Just beyond a horizon mellow,
His morning has finally come…
Voilà! The papillon spreads its wings to freedom!

Here we all are…butterflies…
Each such a beautiful example of Life…
Emblazoning it uniquely every instance
On our wings in moiré resplendence.
A riot of experiences and sadness drunk
As nectar from every blossoming afflatus
Groping for that elusive dream in the dark
Until we finally arrive at our morning calm.

I search for my dawn like so many others
The enlightenment I often feel is just around the corner
But in grand curiosity I’m fluttering away
Dipping…soaring n getting lost in weird byways.

I chanced upon a big papillon
With wings so charismatically strong…
With wide eyes and tiger stripes
Fluttering seemingly precariously,
With some latent injury
It carried on ceaselessly.
(Until it collapsed suddenly.)
I ventured close…a bit frightened…
“I’m alright!” it often thundered,
I went nearer…closer to carry
The tears it was so adept at hiding,
And a pearl of its tear fell upon my wing,
Crystallized into friendship with all its absurdity.

I unburden my friend by just one tear…
Nonetheless, with a grateful prayer…

God bless such papillons who find their dreams
In recreating those that have crashed terminally,
Who see their sunrise in smiles fate left incomplete
And practice masked determination in a vulnerable territory.

Trying to win battles in a ‘No Man’s Land’,
The distance between Life n Death is just a line’s nuance,
Where the death knell is sounding continually in your ears…
Yet you don a shield of courage n a benign smile,
   Never settling down on fear…

It’s you, numero uno butterfly, whom I’d trust my Life with in its nadir…
It’s your passion and dedication, for which I salute thee unto immortality…!

Dedicated to Dr.”Tiger”
 And to his passion for surgery.

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Posted March 6, 2007 by Deepti G Gujar in Mes poèmes banales

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