Love, dyes and butterflies

my sisters stood in light
my brothers ate in peace
ancestors' paths descendants' plight
all merged into a single piece

of stream let music throbbing in my veins
of storms killing ores in iron fields of rust
of horizons split fire lit coloured that craved
a soothing sound a mother fertile ground

where each earthquake thrundered at oblivion rains
to name the nameless pain the pain that named
love, dyes and butterflies born of cry and praise
spreading their wings still making no sound

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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