Emotions harbored in an enclosed vortex
Anchored amid troubled winds and billowy waves
My heart is set to the one who created both quark and VY Canis Majoris
My eyes see beauty in cardboard and paint having no space to breathe
Crowded behind a fragile glass
While I am perched outside, free yet grounded to this prison
Wings unmoving, my feet remain heavy on the outskirts of my prison
Flutter without flight, I am caught in a vortex
A mirror rather than a window becomes this fragile glass
An anchor below the surface circumvents winds and waves
I am now more than cardboard and paint, still labored breath
Yet His breath is in all from quark to VY Canis Majoris
Who can see without scope but God, either quark or VY Canis Majoris?
But I free, can see from where I come, this prison!
Cardboard and paint a metaphoric illusion stops my breath
I hear the clicking of my emotions harbored in an enclosed vortex
Anchored by another, powerless are wind and wave
Perched I am free while I see others in the same prison
Shadows from the outside are cast from this fragile glass
They won’t hear of the one who created both quark and VY Canis Majoris
I tell them they are safe from troubled wind and billowy waves
But they see me alive, yet still bound to my prison
Emotions echo louder enclosed in a vortex
How do I reach cardboard and paint so their beauty breathes?
Why are they inside and I outside my prison?
Cardboard and paint interlocks, one picture, one breath
What if I broke such fragile glass;
Would my emotion shatter from this vortex?
Who frees is free, who is free, frees both the quark and the VY Canis Majoris
Inanimate I sit, showing off my pink wings, no one sees my new prison
This anchor a tether, stronger than wind and waves
Tells me I am more than cardboard and paint; I can breathe
Though outside, did I drag my fear with me from my prison?
What is most easily broken, but fragile glass?
I am somewhere between the quark and the VY Canis Majoris
To you, I may appear silent, but not within this enclosed vortex
A vortex of empathy swells as rising waves
Quark and Majoris are no more beautiful than one who cannot breathe
Mirror or glass, my choice remains to free us all from our prisons
Linked with dversepoetspub.com
It came from staring at my framed puzzle of the butterflies. My first Sestina. Six stanzas with a crazy line scheme for each one, and a seventh 3 line stanza as an envoi. Not sure about this, but it is what it is. It took days!