Bona Is Born

Once Upon A Gray And Wintry Season,
there was a dapper lil' garden
in the heart of the West Village,
that still resonated with that quilted feel
of old world renaissance.

As bundled up hipsters
and art purveyors
cuddled through the frozen streets,
a world of activity was taking place
inside this quaint lil' yard.

It was the first day of Spring,
and for reasons unbeknownst to one and all,
the snow was heavy falling
when the very first rays of sun
broke through the frosty overcast,
and for the first time
of all season,
touched upon a mulberry tree, of the garden
where icicles had been dangling since November.

Drip by drip,
the icicles began to melt,
drop by drop,
til' one began to reveal a cocoon within,
that bit by bit,
was exposed to sunshine.

Inside a caterpillar was cryogenically frozen,
kinda like Hans Solo in Star Wars Episode V.
the caterpillar was okay and all—
and in fact, better than ever—
for it had been growing 
little by little in hibernation 
a butterfly flew out,
and took to wing.

Bona's color was magical,
when suddenly,
color began to stream of its wings,
turning the garden quite vibrant -
and even the snow,
fleecier than usual.

Wow,” said the butterfly, “This is gr8!”

What was gr8er was the butterfly could talk.

not one to revel in its talents,
it just flew up and up
with notes of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet
flowing steady unto the garden...

the butterfly looked and saw the gray city beyond.
“I've got to do something...”

As studying the colors—streaming of its wings into the garden, the butterfly said:
I can just fly.”

And so, the magical butterfly flew.

As it flew across the Village,
the colors of its wings fell and swept
boutiques, salons and comic book shops like rad.

All the while,
bona was the focus of many 'ooo' and much 'awe';
but the city was so big,
and no matter where it flew,
there was always land beyond.

Must share more color!”

And the magical butterfly headed uptown—
flying over Time's Square,
5th Avenue,
and Central Park,
where the grass turned green,
then greener than green.

But bona was getting tired.
How'm I gonna color such a big place?”

And after asking itself this question,
the butterfly noticed something—
the higher it flew,
the more its colors fanned over the land.

In an instance,
bona thought hard
and said:

I've got to soar to the highest point in all the land,
to the top of the Freedom Tower."

And so up and up!
the butterfly flew!
higher and higher,
flapping past pigeon and seagull alike,
until it landed upon the Spire.

The butterfly caught its breath
and rested and looked across the land,
to find it
Covered in a Spring Day of Glorious Color.

'Yea!' said the butterfly, 'Hey btw the view is gr8!'

And so Bona stayed upon the Freedom Tower,
as figuring on what it would do
for the rest of Spring.

The magical butterfly ascending for the Freedom Tower Spire 
(look closely)


Written by: Jon Blondyn on G+

Published + edited by Fabiola Conrado
nite nite. 

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