The Path Of Divine Butterflies

 

Prisoner of an absentee, I wandered through thorny tunnels, as long as years of solitude, lost my name, the meaning, and the essence of life.

The past is the breeding ground of the present, our suffering, the path of divine butterflies… Through our wounds, light and joy penetrate the chrysalis and lift us away until we drink from the cup of the stars.

Dare to metamorphose, my rose!