Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Butterflies

When you smile, the grey dots turn purple
And with every frown, the stripes of green turn yellow
From the room to street, your rushed countenance
Modifies the little specks of red into something more mellow

And as you walk, a trail of gentle and fluid flapping
Follows and with every wave of hand to say goodbye or a hello
It moves, pauses and turns with you in the revered tranquillity
As the wings murmur your words in a restrained echo

A million of them, in an oath of invisibility, shield you
The movement of your every brow is stored safely away
Like how fairy tales have their happy endings
They spin your chronicle when you stir from day to day

They disappear when only you close your eyes at night
And come to me with their handwritten but unseen scroll
Till dawn they sing, in a voice I have never heard before
And one by one, all the butterflies colour my soul.