Butterfly Photosynthesis... Poem by Aleksandra Szymanska

I've seen clouds of butterflies and my heart fluttered like their wavering wings.
When they danced above me I admired colourful shapes: waves and rings…
It looked as if a child took a pen and left its doodles all over the sky -
the waves were the sea full of life, the rings were the sun, moon and stars…

‘Butterflies! Butterflies! ', I uttered in silence of this, as it seemed, an unearthly dream.
In response I heard their tremulous bodies that painted a mute, multihued scream…
I imagined they screamed about the future, full of bright, sunny, simple days.
Their wings were like fortune telling pages overwritten in many different ways…

So, I've seen cosmic explosions submerged in purple, light blue and grey gold,
their mystery swayed to and fro, sharing a story nobody has told…
Above it green hope blended with rouge and softened the air with pollen's scent -
I inhaled the smell of scattered rainbows, their hues sprang into the air then gently bent…

And I looked closely at the butterfly wings with greed to find and learn even more.
I saw the veins that gave them life and traced the map of their cocoon's core…
I looked at the palmate-veined forgiveness wrapped in a soft, silky yarn -
the branching hope fluttered in the dark, becoming a torn ends' holding darn…

And I saw dead butterflies, their vein skeletons looked like lace monuments:
strong like marble, as gentle as velvet, and beautiful like old, truthful friends…
And I imagined the butterflies were leaves born from buds of ancient oaks
or other mighty, mysterious trees, fed with sun beams, rain and hope…