Treasure Island

veeraiyah subbulakshmi


a butterfly story..


The moment I release the zip, from the tight cocoon cloak,
I feel the heat from the tip, the new fresh breeze kisses my thorax,
Pushing the colored wings out, reposition of my retracted shape,
My flight of life has begun to finish, spraying the perfume of hope.

Confused for a while, resting on the mat, which is mated as Africans hair,
Watching all near and around, full of green with contrasting flowers,
Mummy was right; she has chosen the good spot, where I can grow up,
Blooms are young old and young, circled by my friends.

The colors of Chinese umbrella and Indonesian Malays batik design,
Indian jewels of gems and glass, European’s eagerness in my feeling,
American’s alertness in my action, Japanese futuristic notions of dreams,
African’s innocence, Middle Eastern blessing of black diamonds,

I have to live my life having all these treasure on my wings,
Before the passing away of my spirit to another spring,
First I touch the flowers with delight and then flutter and bounce,
No anchor and foundation, but a stalk of hope in trance,

Assisting the pollination, collecting the powder pollen,
Sipping the cognitive delusion, compounded eyes in delirium,
Many miles of flying zone pasted with colorful vegetation,
My life has just begun to wander, guard and replicate each bloom.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2014
Edited: Saturday, January 04, 2014

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Comments about this poem (a butterfly story.. by veeraiyah subbulakshmi )

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  • Spiritual Seeker (1/6/2014 12:54:00 PM)

    Interesting write...butterflies has always been fascinating...light they may be, very important in nature, full of beauty! a 10 (Report) Reply

  • Bri Edwards (1/3/2014 10:09:00 PM)

    i have some comment to make but have to run to the other room for my wife. i hope to get back to this comment tomorrow. :) bri (Report) Reply

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