The stage is set
The risers placed
Butterflies should be in bed.
But no! Oh no!
Stubborn like hunger
They float in my stomach
Give me the chill
Freeze my will
Make me ill.
Where your hearts belong
Out there in nature's garden
Why shelter in the darkness of my stomach?
Leave me alone
I have my own concerns
Don't need more wings
Fluttering with fears.
The breath of life, where are you?
Take a deep breath I'm told,
To help expand my lungs
And cast away from my stomach
I will perform well tonight,
Walk on stage
Proud in my walk
Towards the grand piano
And face all these faces
Why are they still staring at me?
Oh I forgot to chase away the last butterfly
Tilting my gift to a panic!
Away! Away I breathe you away,
Last butterfly from my loins
I am free to face fear without fear
My house is cleared from all fears.
Butterflies I pin you on this poem
A reminder never to have fears from within,
You belong out there in nature
I embrace and celebrate your gift
The gift of life itself;
Pollination, an outreach from God's mind.
I do not fear my nature anymore,
I discovered the yoga in my breath!
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
Rev Nov 7th 2014
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Comments about this poem (Butterflies by Leaking Pen )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1644 - 1694)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1612 – 16 September 1672)
Dr John Celes
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
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