Butterflies - a poem of memorial

I wrote this poem in 2013 for a DWED member that passed away, but in also representative of all those we had lost. I was recently was reminded of it as it resurfaced as a reminder on facebook. It was rushed and is somewhat cliched, but seemed fitting at the time, and definitely fitting to her. I read out at a memorial service that took place in London that year, among friends, including another we have also since grieved. It scares me so much that this is continuing to happen to those we love, to the precious ones. It's not fair.


A mirrored disco ball turns, flickers, and bursts, 
In vibrant purples, deep pinks and brilliant green,

Illuminating, we saw pieces they did not see, 
Pieces she could not see, 

A broken mirror, shattered by distortion, patched together with sticky-tape, 
Yet under daylight: a beautiful mosaic, 
Shimmering and shining.

Talents trampled down in killer heels, 
A hatred so harsh and toxic it burned,
Desperate Bambi eyes, searching for good, 
That was already so obvious to us, 
The shy caterpillar, hiding cocooned, 
Then uncurling, with a mischievous smile, 
Lit with undeniable sass and glitter.

And she was of colours and butterflies. 
And she dances, shaking up the air. 
Beside us, never forgotten.

By Claire Kearns.