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Miracle
by Richa Gupta Miracle It emerged bright, radiant leaving behind its chrysalis in a flurry of wings, restless and tense, gifted with an array of shades and a motif of patterns etched on its wings, fluttering and frail The air was biting, a knife of ice, slashing through the leaves The light was blinding, a shower of rays, more piercing than the breeze The warmth of the cocoon vanished, leaving it exposed, susceptible to the forces of nature- so relentless and unforgiving to a newly formed creation, with a wealth of beauty, a myriad of flair, deciding to hone its abilities in the glacial air It perched on a slender stalk, absorbing its surroundings, the various hues, clearer than a crystal For the very first time, it spread its wings, fell prey to the gusts, joined the breeze, merged with the currents and learned to fly Gliding through the air, it found a sense of liberation- of new-found independence By slicing through the atmosphere- it wielded a sense of power The sky was its residence- the endless blue, golden during the day, indigo at night- a profusion of colors or also a miracle It reminisced on the bygone days- days of impotence, of being rooted to the ground, slow, listless, with no means of escape, days without beauty, without passion or joy, days of distress and inferiority as it looked up, and gaped at the sky- intimidating, infinite, the home of its kind once they broke free of the chrysalis, and learned to fly It basked in the chill, the tropical shades, reveling in this wondrous change- neither the change of metamorphosis, nor the sensation of flight It was a change that dominated the rest, thought the butterfly, as it pirouetted with its kin It was a change that let it fly towards the enticing flowers, rather than having to climb up its stem It was a change that brought beauty and pleasure in the hearts of others It was a carrier of esteem and the magic of freedom |
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