Chrysalis Wings

Ange doux, Ange doux, Ange doux

Dressed in hushed white lace

Rivers of solace in softest sighs…

 

Seule âme, Seule âme, Seule âme

Woven in a threaded tapestry

A fabric of gold and ashen flames…

 

Chrysalide coulisses, Chrysalide coulisses, Chrysalide coulisses

Opening, transforming before my eyes

She lifts, and beckons, rising into sunrise…

Author's Note

“When she transformed into a butterfly, the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty, but of her weirdness. They wanted her to change back into what she always had been. But she had wings.” ― Dean Jackson

(French: Sweet angel… One soul… Chrysalis wings…)

Reviews

[~]

You are such a magical writer Craig! I love the imagery of the woman turning into an angel right before the eyes of the speaker. I absolutely love the "hushed white" wow!! what a terrific way to describe soft tones. Absolutely gorgeous!!

[An owl on the moon]

Thank you so much, moonskittles! I woke a little melancholy this morning... and your words helped wash it away... May your weekend be painted in every color of magic... :)

[~]

happy to know, i cheered you up :D

[An owl on the moon]

You're always good that way... :)