Wings fold, opening again like water.

Slipping into the blue serenity,

she winks into her next move.

She knows that shapeshifting

nuance that plows through you

like Tsunami—that knowing

the same as her flight,

certain without a single thing

to hold.

She pulls every observer

into her emptiness

until they are full of her flight.

Her snowfall visits again

late in the night


saying and saying

the nothing.



Transcendence is not a battle, not even an effort. It is the grace to say yes to the tsunami of moving from caterpillar to butterfly. But crawling isn’t a problem to be solved, it is just another emptiness–like flying.


© Andrea Mathews, 2014

blue butterfly

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s