Butterflies and Kisses

A sweet little butterfly touches my shoulder,

Kisses my moist lips, jolts me to a wonder.

How I wish I could keep it with me forever.

At least till the pinks & blues meet over yonder.

I try and gently scoop it up to hold in my hands.

But the poor thing flutters faster than a fairy's wands.

I kiss it a sad goodbye and look wistfully after.

I send up a prayer amidst subdued laughter.

Thank God, not everything is meant to 'let go'.

I smile as I search for his hand and a rainbow.

Arent we all thankful at a certain level that we have somethings to hold on to even if the whole world abandons us...like mothers and lovers. :)


Chanchal said...

The butterfly being used as an instrument of revelation, of a bit of grief and a bit of helplessness, that had arisen due to the tireless effort one needs to pay to keep going in the harsh world...

Certainly the poem was like-able but more like-able were those couple of lines at the end, they make a strong statement. Stay well, you.


Indrajit said...

deep stuff again and well rhymed.

God going.