A Now-ever-changing Meadow
In my grim meadow of disarray,
On a grim gradual day,
Sparks a spark
Of sweet luscious colors.
Unknown wandered,
with its bright and lively wings,
It flies and flutters,
To grim flowers, it clings.
Soon from its touch,
The flowers rebloom,
Rebloom, neologized.
To a new future,
Totally colorized.
For the infinity, I see in the meadow,
Alike the inexistent end of the horizon,
Courageous and spiritful,
It endeavors, and continues to,
continuum.
What was a dry, dusty, grim,
is a meadow gently being beautified,
Forever now it, a butterfly, as I define,
Endeavors to make my life worthwhile.
It is special, colorful,
Joyful, wonderful.
An impeccable human.
Je ne suis pas seul,
plus maintenant!
Ma vie a fleuri!
***
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