A butterfly finds its way back br br It was a drift from the path br It took place sometime back br Because our heroine sensed a lack br In the taste of nectar in the flower of the park br br To the same park this flock of butterflies br Used to come and enjoy the sweet and nice br Nectar in the red and blue poppies br And fly back with this sweetened hobby br br It was more an excuse than a reason br For this drift, but a thought’s treason br To deviate and critically question br All that were followed in mindless unison br br Our young colourful one with whistle br In her wings, over a time turned hostile br To this tradition and thought it futile br To be in the flock and went away for a while br br Others in the group became worried br Wondering where she would have been carried br Was she in the insect flower got buried br Or was by ants after an injury curried br br One fine morning suddenly the butterfly was sighted br And she joined the flock as if nothing got slighted br And told others she followed the path less lighted br For a flower who became with her less delighted br br She expressed to join the flower of flock’s choice br And be ever with it without making any further noise br The flock has no words to say but to rejoice br The retrieval of the butterfly with her vouching voicebr br Bashyam Narayananbr br