"Bouquet of Flowers with a Butterfly" by Josef Lauer‘Urban Butterfly’ and Other Poetry and Music by Adam Sedia The Society September 5, 2017 Beauty, Poetry 1 Comment Urban Butterfly What business have you here, In acrid air, to strain Through jagged glass and steel On a cracked asphalt plain. Faint, shady memory Of vernal vales of green – Wind-tossed, long-lost, you fly Among this tortured scene, Whose weight could pulverize Your grace with heartless ease; And yet you flutter, blithe And nonchalant – to tease? The Seashell An errant shape appears upon the sand, Borne from ultramarine depths to wash Among the turquoise waves’ relentless crash Upon another world, a sun-drenched land. So small it is, yet so ornately planned: A volute swirling to a spire, awash With vibrant hues and iridescent flash. What slimy mollusk’s home should be so grand? The sea is deep and dark, and stretches wide; Beneath its waves, it cloaks its treasures well. I, small and land-bound, cannot breach its keep. Yet this appears to me upon the tide, An angel from that other world to tell A small part of the wonders of the deep. Vision (Sun Shower) The storm air comes alive, electrified As noonday sunbeams slice through the torrents, divide, Infinitely pared and multiplied. They turn the world into one sparkling mass Of dancing light, a gossamer forest of glass Dazzling with a gleam no eye can pass. The endless, radiant, all-consuming light, Refracted, mirrored, glinting, and shimmering might Seem unreal, a supernatural sight. Indeed it is a glimpse, if brief and faint, Of what no words, no brush, no mind’s eye can paint: True Light that transcends all earthly taint. Adam Sedia (b. 1984) lives in his native Northwest Indiana, where he practices law as a civil and appellate litigator. His poems have appeared in Indiana Voice Journal and Tulip Tree Review. He has also had short stories and works of legal scholarship published in various journals. He also composes music, which may be heard on his YouTube channel. Related Post ‘Letter to England: For Tommy Robinson’ by Josep... I. But yesterday, your noble fathers bled Upon the fields of France, where countless dead Had found among the vines their final rest, To gild with... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail One Response David Watt September 6, 2017 Adam, thank you for these lovely poems. My favorite is ‘The Seashell’, and the line ‘What slimy mollusk’s home should be so grand?’ Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.