A delicately woven welcome;
a soft touch for each blossom,
a tease of every velvet blade of new grass
pushing up through weary soil.
I press each stamen close to my face
light and flirtatious;
tiptoe aimless with no worries or cares
on such a delicious and fragrant day.
April's warm sunshine speaks to nature
in a language few understand;
awakens and coaxes me into the sky
where I can learn to be a butterfly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem