The Butterfly

Neither can’t you judge me from my present
Nor can you judge from my past.
Before I’d spread my wings,
And amazed you with my splendid colors.
I was just an ugly moth,
Amongst millions, doting the face of earth.

I am not what you see
I was not what you saw
Change is the nature’s law
I practice it without flaw.

My past speaks nothing of my present
My present doesn’t represent my past.
If I am flying today with color
I shall never forget the day I was pupa.

© Tarun Mitra