Black Butterfly, poetry by Lorna Jackie Wilson at
Gayatri Malhotra

Black Butterfly

Black Butterfly

written by: Lorna Jackie Wilson



The gray steps of a wood frame home, the peeling
paint, and broken stone. The ceiling, stained with
water spots, the sound that makes the drip, the
drop. The eyes that roam through every room, the
lights are dim to hide the gloom. Arise to search
throughout the fray, for strength sought for
another day.

The heaviness of mother’s breath; she does not wake from
slumbers depth. The cares of daily circumstances confound
the path of sound guidance. The choice that takes a turn for
south; the thought to take a different route. Arise to hear
the fuss, the fight, run for the door with all my might.

The streets are littered with despair. Look around,
there’s no one there. The outlook speaks utter
defeat; a safe haven is all I seek. The stranger offers
up his hand; he says he has a better plan. Arise to
find the claim is false, the trickery, I’m truly lost.

The friend that offers to assist; to aid the heart
where there is rift. The stumbling block at every turn,
answers found through lessons learned. The mother’s
cry for where she’s failed. Her eyes cloud up behind
the veil. Arise to find the courtroom door. The gray
steps of my home, no more.

The system, run by foster care. A stranger’s arms;
this isn’t fair. The introduction to new life. Hope
found through the living Christ. The tattered
wings, black butterfly. The pain of loss, I often hide.
Arise, to find the pain is gone. Black Butterfly, for
you are strong.

The wings that once were pale and weak. The
colors are no longer bleak. The layers, mending one
by one. Black Butterfly, into the sun. The empty
heart, no longer bare. Black Butterfly, into the air.
Arise, to find your destiny. Black Butterfly, and
spread your wings.

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