We may slough off our chrysalis
and become butterflies.
We may return to the tree where we began
our journey,
branch and leaves the same
on the everlasting bough.
Our ephemeral earthly life was
But a dream, and now we've woken up;
where colour is not camouflage
where flying is reaching the very top
on the wing beats of eternity
I don't believe in the afterlife, but it's an interesting concept that you presented. Comparing the butterfly with a life with some kind of great colorful god in the heavens of our imagination.
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
If you tend to believe romantic, passionate, masculine poetry is a thing of past eras, read "She Intrigues Me," and be swept away in the beautiful craft of a contemporary poet of love.
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Ron