Story of days of yore

infiltrated my mind

of that young butterfly

whose only wish was to shed her cocoon

and fly away very soon.

To flowers near and far

she undertook her journey

in the light of her north star.

Now, many years and petals later

she habitually summons

the memories of her cocoon

As colorless and contorted

as wingless and distorted

her heart aches for her first home

where everything was known

and everyone, called her own.

Photo by Jaxson Bryden from Pexels


This is for all those who migrated over to a different city or country. While they may cherish their new lives, every so often, are caught reminiscing about old times.

Inspired by Kristiana’s November Writing Prompt #2
and V.J. Weekly’s Challenge