The Butterfly
I looked out my window,
At the gloomy grey sky.
When I saw a butterfly,
Flitting blissfully by.
Unfettered by worries,
Not shackled by woe,
A blithe Lepidoptera,
And its aerial show.
The patter of raindrops,
Fazed it not a bit,
Blithely it glided,
On my window did sit.
Ever so nonchalantly,
It fluttered its wings.
Not a care in the world,
What a fortunate thing!
If only my soul,
Could a butterfly be.
Gallivant in my small world,
Unburdened and free!
Copyright © Ramanan Duraiswami | Year Posted 2023
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