Oh, dinky Mapwing butterfly,
Fluttering through the black thorn rose bushes,
Your wings tattered and frayed.
How beautifully browned dried blood stains.
How courageous you are after all the arduous years.
Watering those roses with your tears.
In the sublime gardens where you reside,
Have you ever wondered what’s on the other side?
Mapwing butterfly don’t be dismayed by the sound of your name,
For a single ivory floribunda rose awaits.
With its sanative petals that never wilt, soft like silk,
Allow yourself to be rebuilt,
And watch how the cracks you were once ashamed of
Turn into the thing most loved.
The scars on your back will turn to gold,
And stories of the kintsugi butterfly will be told.
