Black Butterfly In A Crystal Cocoon

At the height of our misfortune,

we are scarcely afraid, it’s as though

on the basis of nothing, anything

is conceivable, and everything becomes

feasible, because we have known

and understood our human limitations,

then it is as if the arms become wings,

and the feet are now unnecessary.

 

We unravel from the earth womb,

never knowing we were conceived

in the darkness of our own crystal hearts,

that our fate was a poem on the tip of

the tongue, waiting to take flight.

 

It is then that we are born, on a black night,

when no stars are yet visible on the horizon,

yet in the cave of our conscious knowing,

the answer was in us, growing and growing,

so clear that the world could see it glowing

deep within, where we waited for it to awaken

from the opaque dream of blind imagination.

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4 Comments

Filed under Poem, poetry, travel, Uncategorized, writing

4 responses to “Black Butterfly In A Crystal Cocoon

  1. I keep rereading this. So wise and true. At the height of our misfortune. Brilliantly written.

    Like

  2. Write again. I adore your poems

    Liked by 1 person

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