Where do butterflies hide in the rain?
Do they dance in the mist, with unfurling grace,
or seek refuge in a secluded place?
Among the raindrops do they remain,
or crowded together to soften the pain.
In the shelter of the tree capped canopy,
will they find a haven, serene and free?
In the gentle rhythm of the falling rain,
where do butterflies hide from the strain?
Perhaps in my dreams, where their beauty will not be missed,
they dance upon the breeze; embracing the morning mist.
I join their dance and suddenly I'm free.
In their elegance I will remain, because I'm the butterfly
Hiding from the rain.