Smell of Sun

This morning,
night dew still fresh on my back,
I felt the smell of sun.

Following the first rays that warmed the earth
life, asleep in darkness,
came into motion.

The smell of sun equals
to the lavish aroma of all beings and things
which begin their activities.

Water molecules evaporate raising the early softness
of new branches and seeds, ready to sprout
Woody and nutty becomes the air.

Wet blades of grass
release the joyful chlorophyll freshness
It all becomes grey and greenish.

Delicate flower petals bloom in pink, purple and yellow.
I cannot take my multifaceted eyes off of them,
I taste nectar in my mouth, on my antennae the weight of pollen.

Yes, the smell of flowers is intoxicating,
as well as the smell of mellow fruits,
oozing their sweet and velvety juice.

The sun smells of grass, flowers, fruits
and also of the dense earth and humus
The smell of the sun is also the smell of death, in life renewed.

Creeks and rivers reflect my imago
I have wings and they are coloured,
light passes through their fine texture.

I notice every morning movement,
but I only start my happy dance
under the heat of the high sun.

My companions and I fly in tones and semitones,
up and down, up and down,
for a dozen miles.

The musicality of life leads us,
searching for the sexuality of flowers
and the sensuality of fruits.

I pollinate life and fertilization is my art,
in my body I carry the seeds of passion,
the regenerative impulses of life.

I don’t have many hours to complete my task,
leaving the cocoon, just a few days left,
but I feel them like eternity.

For me there is no past nor future,
only the omnipresence of the moment
and the pressing forces of my instincts.

Every flap of my wings can become a hurricane,
and in each landing on each flower,
love is made.

I am a paladin of love,
I am an instrument of life,
My name is butterfly.

By MissKhaosland