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Hope stirs like a diminutive butterfly
In the barren wasteland
Of winter’s dark, lonely womb.


Diaphanous limbs tentatively flutter
Like the whisper of spring
Gently rippling dreamy rose petals.


Sleepy, crumpled, papery wings
Slowly unfurl and expand
To reveal gossamer silken sheets.


With the grace of a ballerina
And the serenity of an angel
She embraces dawn’s melodious sky.


A winged goddess of bright sapphire
Sequinned with sparkling emeralds
Beaming beatifically.


Soon she spies a mate
The new mother rejoices
Bathed in creation’s sweet glow.


Caressed by the feathery breeze
She drifts towards the horizon
On the trail of dusky pink clouds.


Iridescent dreams blossom like stars
As she slumbers contentedly
Cocooned in luminescent embers.


As the days grow shorter
Tired wings begin to wither
Like bruised leaves.


Soon a tomb of snow will fall
But the blazing trail of a butterfly
Will burn for eternity.