A Dream of a Butterfly
Everyday resembles a blank canvas,
Any color can accommodate the dull lines,
Our dreams arrange like butterflies in the rain,
Pattering down in rattled drops as the sun beams beyond them.
An idea forms simply from effortless imagination,
Processing concepts to ratify their senses,
Then blossoming into an established innovation.
Sometimes pain attempts to keep us locked without a key,
But our wings are stronger,
Not only do we fly,
We soar above the chants.
A Dream of a Starfish
I grow,
I create,
I manage,
I build,
I express,
I fail.
I grow again,
I create again,
I manage again,
I build again,
I express again,
And just like a starfish,
I succeed.
A Dream of a Tree
I sprout from roots that simply hold my weight,
A superior force of foundation beneath me,
My bark is solid in firmness,
Its fresh scent of wet leaves absorbed by the humid air,
A strength that yields away the controlling wind.
I continue to grow upwards,
Now small segments of colors burst at the tips of my twigs.
My branches sway in the luminous path of sunlight.
My wood constantly develops in short portions of purity.
My leaves now create a beautiful image of reflection.
I stand above the constant echoes of dying plants,
Their somber remains disappearing,
Plants that didn’t thrive in their negativity.
But I am still here.
I am the dream of a tree,
A dream that unlocked the chamber, even without a key.