statues are fascinating.

did you ever see why?

when it starts,

a butterfly is all

there was… fluttering a dream,

in some sculptors mind.

only to find anew,

the perfection of his simple heart: surrounded by crowds,

to see the Lady.. which they changed with assumptions,

molding the stone with alternate vision,

losing its beginning.

perception that hid the garden, of something real!

Of Someone true, not stone,

not an object to view,

but a butterfly, from the divine.

just like all who live,



remember, our stone is not limited:  to ignorant eyes…..

when a universe is truly inside,

we are, human!

let that be our monument, in the eye of a butterfly, fluttering in the realm of realities chime.

I like pie. Writing poetry for me is all done without editing or pre-thought. Enjoy the dribbles of my mind. :D

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Posted in friendship, generation, love, mental health, miami, nonfiction, ode, personal, poem, poems, poetry, reading, recovery, relapse, start, trance, Uncategorized, unique, unrequited love, writing

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