The Butterfly and the Rose

The sky was filled with butterflies, in the air - a scent of rose.

Ahead of me lay life itself, wherever the river flows.

I cannot choose the path to take, for each looks good to me.

The butterfly, or the rose – which one will I be ?

The butterfly, so beautiful - as free as a bird in flight.

Were I to be the butterfly, I could own the day and night.

My beauty would astound the world, my wings would take me there …

Yes, I should choose the butterfly – but do I really dare ?

The rose has beauty also, and smells as sweet as wine

It doesn’t travel far from home, but stable roots are fine.

I could stand in place, while others admired my charm.

Yes, I should choose the rose I think, but would that do me harm ?

The answer now is clear to me, how silly could I be ?

The butterfly and rose as one, that is the honest me !

With wings of beauty I soar along the morning sky above

But stable roots still hold me here, with all the ones I love.