butterfly heart

how many days will
it take for a crawling pupa
to hide her legs and
grow her own soft cage
where she will
further evolve into
a winged butterfly?

how much pain will
she survive to transform
from a leaf-beggar to
a fragile air glider who
can freely fly?

how many tiny cells
hidden from the naked eye will
she have to break and birth
to create and be created?

i wonder, likewise
how much loss can
a human heart endure
before one learns to hear
and accept the
goodbyes left unsaid.

11.23.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo Jian Xhin@lyianko

In response to dVerse Poetics: ‘The Heavy Bear Who Goes With Me’.
dverse

 

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dust and breaths

seasons inevitably change.
a tree transforms from
a yellow green bud-baby to
a daring, scarlet lady to
a bare and naked oldie.

humans will inevitably fade.
a mortal body from its
innocent infancy
grows bones after bones,
endures scars after scars,
wrinkles skin after skin,
expires cell after cell.

fleeting cloud of dusts and
fading bag of breaths,
oh, humans and seasons,
inside the complex cosmos
forever beyond anyone’s
comprehension.

11.08.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via  ESA/Hubble;  European Space AgencyNASA, and J. Hester (Arizona State University)

In response to dVerse Lookin’ Up! by lillian.
dverse

 

 

for your information

kick me out
of your life
yes, you can.

kick me out
of my own love,
oh, you just can’t.

i am locked,
chained, tethered,
inside the cave
of my self-sufficient
heart.

it’ll beat
with a thump,
with a thump,
with you
or without.

11.07.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Quadrille#44 by whimsygizmo.
dverse

my passengers

the blinking thin
line stares back at
me, as it beats
with my heart
jumping for
you so silently. there

is a poem inside
me, a poem i want
to let out badly, but
the words are
scrambling like train
passengers on their
final stop, rushing
to come out. there is

too much that i
want to write, as if
the words in the
dictionary will not
be enough, because,
listen. from thousand
miles away from
me, i am not even

sure if this will
reach you, hopefully,
but there maybe one,
no, it’s a thousand
poems inside me, and
maybe i will not
be able to spill
them out successfully,
but this one i
think i can say

surely, you are
my heart’s poetry.

11.03.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Geoffrey Arduini on Unsplash

In response to dVerse Open Link Night byGrace. 🙂
dverse