Note: I wrote this poem after meditating on a butterfly as it flew around me. I was standing at a bus station when this happened. As soon as I saw the butterfly, I started meditating on it while blocking every other thought in my brain. Then I ended up thinking of this poem. I wrote it afterwards. As the poem was being captured by my sweet neurons, a battle started inside my mind: either I am going to capture this beauty or I will not do so. I mean it was so pretty and it would become a really cute souvenir after being captured. But, somehow I could not bring myself to touch it lest it might get killed. As I entered the bus feeling like a defeated soldier, I realized that the butterfly can make a slave out of me—then you will probably see more poems on butterflies. Yeah! poets battle a lot by using their wits. It is far more interesting than real battles. 

Fluttering up and down
Merging with the flowers
Pretty butterfly

He gazed at her lovingly
Such magnificent colors
Such a wondrous aura

Wanting to see her every morn
He wished to capture
This beauty instantly

A thought surmised within
A reminder of her free flight
What a delight it must be

No captivity, no force

Oh such a beauty ‘twas
Truly, one and only

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.