the butterfly
As love falls down from the sky,
It lands on the wings of a butterfly.
The butterfly sings it's songs and rhymes,
And flies through the air, No concept of time.
It is the messenger of patience and change,
From flower to flower, it's odd and it's strange.
The butterfly can transform it's world.
And give way to new beginnings, unfurled,
It is the keeper of transformation,
And flies on faith and imagination.
The butterfly as no fear of change,
It bravely escapes it's homemade cage.
To change, it knows is necessary,
For all the burdens we need not carry.
The butterfly soars, and merrily sings,
For, without change, it could never grow wings.
break silence
Monday, September 25, 2006
-4:14 PM
This happens when you are a little bored.. it gives you more time to ponder.. =O
It's funny how I can easily be contented by little things.. Of cos there's absolutely nothing wrong with this, it's actually miserable trying to be demanding.
But as we get older, I must admit that we are often blinded by money and status. You will be more exposed to the immoral and pretentious side of the world.It's inevitable that we will be somehow influenced, but to filter out the good from the bad, it will certainly be a test.