My words break as a butterfly perches on my hand,
silently passing the word I so long sought.
Whispering silence its wings fold and open,
showing something I never knew.
A great calm comes with the soft grip of the fragile figurine resting on my hand.
Seconds which were nothing extend into eternity,
gazing at the beauty of something new my mind crumbles.
Turning taciturn as white wings leave my hand fluttering to the moon.
- Yuki (20.01.08)