🦋 Butterfly🌸

O Butterfly,
Living painting of the wind,
A prayer swaying softly upon the morning breeze.
When the first golden rays awaken your wings,
the air is filled with fragrance,
and your fragile flight becomes
the heartbeat of a hidden song.

From what dream do you rise?
From which secret meadow are you born?
Your colors—
pages of a book that speaks only of love.🌺

When spring arrives,
buds stretch their arms toward the sun,
flowers glow with fire,
and then—like a secret of light—
you descend near me.

Your presence is like a flower’s perfume—
felt, but never held.
Even if you touch,
you leave no trace behind,🌻
yet you awaken waves inside my heart
that linger, restless and alive.

O Butterfly,🌿💞
there is innocence in your flight,
a romance in your rhythm,
a softness that holds time still.
Love is like you
try to grasp it, and it vanishes.
Keep your distance,
and it hovers ever near.

Beneath the moonlight,
when your wings meet silver beams,
a doorway of dreams seems to open.
Between light and shadow,
you shimmer—
a promise half-whispered, half-kept.💋

Love too is like this—
never fully captured,
never fully lost,
but always circling the heart
like fragrance,
like shadow,
like a tide that never sleeps.

And I wonder,
what if I were free like you?
To touch every corner of the sky,
to drift from bloom to bloom,
with no chains,
no borders.
What if love too
was like a butterfly—
where only wings mattered,
not the world’s rules?

O Butterfly,
what song guides your dance?
What secret rests within your silence?
It feels as if you whisper:
“Life is brief,
but even a fleeting moment
is enough to fill it with color.”

In the garden,
when you begin your dance,
the earth holds its breath,
the heavens pause.
Eyes follow you,
hearts long to keep you.
But truth is this—
you can never be held.
You can only be seen,
felt,
remembered.♥️

And love too is the same.
Try to capture it,
and your hands remain empty.
But your heart—
ah, it overflows with dreams.

O Butterfly,
you are the portrait of love
that never grows old.
Each glance reveals you anew,
each moment you gift
a fresh fragrance of life.

You remind me—
the secret of beauty
does not live in stillness,
but in the flight of a moment.
Life itself is a butterfly,
alighting for a while,
leaving colors and fragrance,
before vanishing into the wind.

I have seen a child chasing you,
her laughter spilling like sunlight,
her smile bright enough
to soften the universe.
Love too is like this—
innocent, sudden,
touching hearts without asking.

O Butterfly,
what dream glimmers in your eyes?
What message hides in your flight?
You tell me:
“Love cannot be caged.
In captivity it wilts,
but when set free—
it paints the whole world in color.”

In your colors lies a secret,
in your wings, a prayer.
You are not merely an insect—
you are the definition of love,
the metaphor of freedom,
the truth of a dream.

O Butterfly,
when you land near me,
I wish time would pause.
I long to lose myself in your colors,
to lay my weariness
upon the softness of your wings.

But each time,
you fly away.
And love too—
it always hovers just beyond reach,
keeping us alive with longing.
That is its beauty.
That is its truth.

O Queen of Colors,
Wanderer of the Wind,
Companion of Dreams—
may your flight always awaken hope,
may you keep coloring love,
may you keep bringing dreams
closer to life.

Epilogue

Butterfly—
you are not just wings,
you are a heartbeat,
a language of love,
a signature of freedom.
In your flight lingers a whisper,
a message for every soul:

“Love deeply,
live freely,
and color each fleeting moment—
for life is nothing more
than the short, trembling flight