A bridge (unlike any other)
Lead me to a place (not like any other)

A wind so soft and so endearing
Brought me to the comfort of my own soul
Where in embracement I found myself

A troubled butterfly fell down from a sky
Broken in my hands, a kiss to mend it
Upward it flew, into oblivion, without remorse

In my memory, that butterfly remains
A delicate reminder of a life deserving love
In anticipation of being found,
Oh! I’ve been found.

06/24/04 | 11:47 AM
[e.e. cummings, zen poems]