Emerging gradually and with struggle from a dark and silent chrysalis
She discovered colours.
Reds and purples violent greens and vibrant aquamarines.
Textures also came into her world
Deep soft velvets and sensual floating silks.
Opening her wings, carefully, shyly
And with much heart searching and apology
She dared to present her femininity.
Little by little and wondering,
She pushed the doors that so far had been closed to her
Shutting out the world of otherness.
She began to discover the treasure within.
Delicate silver chains adorned her neck
Rings sparkled upon her fingers.
And earrings caught the light as they danced in harmony
With the movements of her head.
Perfume, sensual and intoxicating drifted behind her
Trailing her fragrant identity
And rainbows spilling colours over the white nails of toes
Splashed into hair and glistened on lips.
Kicking from her feet the heavy brogues of doctrine
She learned to dance barefoot with young angels
On the dew drenched cathedral lawns
Ignoring notices that told her she should not.
But e’en as she danced she knew that other rules,
Other ancient laws that someone long ago had written over her,
Would ensnare her feet and bring her to the dust.
The troubadour came unexpectedly.
Softly treading barefoot into her life singing His love songs.
And she adored him.
She gave herself readily to his sweet caresses
Her whole being moving in rhythm with him.
The words he wrote upon her heart were different,
Offering freedom beyond anything she had known thus far
Calling her to a life of colour and music, passion and desire.
She was intoxicated!
But even as she stretched her wings to fly
The net ensnared her
Grabbing her fiercely from the heights to which she had soared
And spiralled her down down, down.
Down from the silver morning where the air was light and vibrant
Down to the dusty stale coldness of the ancient places
Crashing violently on tablets of stone
Where rules were written in dead man’s blood.
She lay there, broken.
For many days she could not lift her head.
This was a cold and silent tomb
The only words were the ancient laws
The only companions the shalt not voices of the past.
Her butterfly wings were broken and her heart was crushed.
Her eyes wept bitter tears that went uncomforted
She was surely dead.
Then on the third day, as dawn called to the morning to paint the skies
A ray of sunlight found its way through a faded stained glass window
And gently, tenderly, with all the compassion of the Earth Maker
It caressed her there, melting away the coldness of her heart
And healing her brokenness.
She lifted her head, and looking she found herself dazzled
In the love that poured upon her
Trying her wings she found that she could fly…
Away from the restrictions that had threatened to ruin her
Away from the laws and rules of others to whom she did not belong.
She shook herself free from the heavy dust of doctrine
That for a while had smothered her
And fixing her gaze upon the sun she began to fly
Up, up she rose….
Into the clear air, into the singing place where love songs were written
And romance was born.
And as she gained strength she began to change
Her eyes became bright and clear with anticipation
And her heart began to sing a song of love that was her own.
And all the colours of the rainbow cascaded upon her
She was transformed, she was reborn.
Far away, but getting closer with every heart beat
She heard her beloved singing.
His song danced down the mountains and cascaded across the waterfalls
It drew her to him.
She held her breath hardly daring to believe that this could be her story.
Then she saw him.
Leaving the shadows he came to her
Etched in the gold of the sun
And taking her in his arms he held her safe.
Softly he sang to her, and softly her voice echoed his song
Voices falling and rising until they sang together in perfect harmony
The butterfly was reborn.