Paper-Thin Wings of a Butterfly
Chaos Theory is born
From the paper-thin wings of a butterfly
Each beat stirring winds
Each beat – a warning a storm is coming
It takes courage to rise
After being grounded for so long
To unfurl new wings
And take flight
Healing is not fast
Not loud
Not easy
Not painless
It begins in silence
A flutter
A ripple
A woman whispering – no more
After years of screaming silently
The tremor in a voice
The turning pages of a life
Soaked in secrets
But my wings were never weak
They were waiting
Now every beat defies laws
Breaking patterns
Rewriting equations
He said I would never solve
Now every beat gains momentum
A refusal to weaken
Each remembered insult adds a gust
Each remembered lie a roll of thunder
Each remembered act of abuse – lightning in my sky
Each remembered screaming rage – a cloud in the gathering storm
The storm did not make me
I made the storm
So let it come
I will survive it
I am the flutter
The small movement
The butterfly who birthed an unforgettable storm
With nothing but paper-thin wings.
